What to Do When: A Guide To Surviving Hogwarts
by Moony8193
Summary: After his insane seven years at Hogwarts, James Potter has decided to write a guide to survive everything from Hagrid's cooking to when crazed squirrels attack your Potions class. Hilarious, if I do say so myself. James POV.
1. Introduction

_**Hello! **_

_**Again. **_

_**For like the tenth time this week. Ha. My latest story, which I absolutely adore and which is not depressing in the slightest! (Therapy worked, Kristen!)**_

_**Hope you like it too! Remember to review! Ha. That rhymed. **_

**Disclaimer: ****As soon as Harry Potter becomes a buyable stock and I buy all of them, I do not own Harry Potter. **

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What to Do When…A Guide to Surviving Hogwarts

So You Wanna Survive Hogwarts…

Congratulations!

You are the luckiest person in the entire world.

And I'm not just saying that.

Because you have found and/or stole my fabulous guide, written by yours truly, James Potter (and some minor associates).

If anyone knows anything about surviving Hogwarts, it's me.

Follow this like the Bible, and you'll end up like me: Quidditch Captain, Head Boy, hot, buff, brilliant, and many other flattering adjectives.

This book contains everything from:

Chapter 1: What to Do When Your Roomate Scares You

Chapter 6: What to Do When You Find Out Your Best Friend Is a Werewolf

Chapter 19: What to Do When the House Elves Refuse to Make Pudding

(And who could forget)

Chapter 26: What to Do When Crazed Squirrels Attack Your Potions Class

Had enough? My wonderful, superb piece of literature also has special editions like:

When Cornish Pixies Attack: What to Do and Where to Hide

Rock Cake Calamity: How to Escape Hagrid's Cooking Without Being Rude

And

Broom Closets and Dorm Rooms: The Top 10 Places to Snog Senseless

I've survived every one of these things, so by telling my story, it'll help you too.

Stick with me, kid, and you'll escape with A LOT less trips to the hospital wing.

Best Wishes,

James Potter.

I, James Potter, am not responsible for any injuries and or detentions resulting from using this guide.

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_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review! The more reviews I get, the faster I update!**_

_**Love to all, **_

_**Danielle**_

_The first chapter in James' stunning guide! Enjoy, and don't forget to R&R! _Danielle 

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	2. What to Do when Your Roommate Scares You

_**The first chapter in James' stunning guide! Enjoy, and don't forget to R&R! **_

**_Danielle_**

**Disclaimer: ****As soon as Harry Potter becomes a buyable stock and I buy all of them, I do not own Harry Potter.**

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Chapter 1: What To Do When Your Roommate Scares You 

I had just been sorted into Gryffindor with my best friend Sirius Black. I was young, foolish, and ridiculously handsome, of course. So imagine my surprise after Sirius and I labored all the way up the 49 steps to our dormitory (we had both eaten 4 sides of mashed potatoes, 67 chicken wings, 2 hamburgers, 98 french fries, 16 fudge-brownies, nibbled on some Hungarian Goulash (which we promptly spit out), and devoured 11 berry tarts while the entire table watched dumbstruck) to find a tall, sandy haired boy _reading,_ a chubby, blonde boy already passed out, and a dark-haired, skinny kid on the bed clearly labeled James Potter flipping through 'Vogue'.

Sirius and I paused. They hadn't spotted us yet; we could easily run for it, escape. But steeling up our famous Gryffindor courage, we both cautiously approached these curious, obviously deranged people we would have to live with for another 7 years.

The creature on my bed spoke.

"I'm switching beds, if you don't mind," he called to us, not even looking up from his magazine. "I wanted a window view."

That was _my_ window view, dammit.

Sirius looked at me in fear.

There was only one sensible thing left to do.

I bombed across the room, grabbed the Bedstealer by his robes, threw the magazine out the nearby window, and flung him from my four-poster bed.

He looked up at me from the floor in shock.

Sirius was beside himself laughing.

The reading boy was staring at me with annoyance.

The chubby boy rolled over in his sleep and snorted loudly.

"I WANT THE WINDOW VIEW!" I screamed breathlessly.

Bedstealer smiled.

"You're funny."

That was not the reaction I was hoping for.

He stood up, brushed himself off, and offered me his hand.

"Jacob Lennox."

I shook it, albeit grudgingly.

"James Potter."

Jacob crossed the room and leapt on the bed directly across from me. Sirius clambered onto the bed beside me.

"Sirius Black," he muttered, already yawning widely.

The boy behind the book entitled "Prefects Who Gained Power" said mildly, "Remus Lupin."

I could tell I liked Remus already. _He_ hadn't tried to steal my bed.

The 5th boy snored but no one paid much attention to him. An awkward silence ensued while we all changed into our pajamas and climbed into our beds.

Right before we extinguished the lights however, Jacob Lennox did his first (of many) strange thing.

"You know, Sirius, you really have gorgeous eyes," Jacob said thoughtfully.

What?

"I—excuse me?" poor Sirius squeaked, clearly frightened.

"I bet you'd look fabulous in a light gray color. Not only would it bring out your eyes, it would compliment your skin tone," he continued, happily oblivious. "I have a gray scarf, if you want."

Sirius turned to me in the near darkness to mouth 'help me' to me.

Remus, who had still been reading, dropped his book in shock.

The 5th, still asleep boy grunted loudly and muttered, "What the?"

I couldn't have agreed more.

"ER, that's OK, Jacob," Sirius managed, struggling against the urge to run for it, as I would have suggested.

I saved his sorry arse.

"Time for bed!" I shouted cheerfully, and we were immediately plunged into a scared, unrelaxed darkness.

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But the weirdness didn't stop there.

The next morning, Remus, Sirius, and I awoke around the same time. It was still extremely early. The nameless boy with blonde hair was still fast asleep.

What was weird was that Jacob had already been in the shower for TWO HOURS.

"Jacob!" Remus yelled, banging on the door, "Look, you really gotta get out of the bathroom, I've had to use the John for over four hours now…"

Steam was snaking out through the cracks in the door.

I was suddenly very excited.

"What if he's trying to drown himself?" I pointed dramatically.

Remus paled.

Sirius muttered something that sounded like, "I hope he does," and looked considerably happier.

By now, the 5th boy was up and straggling over to us, obviously confused.

"Er…hi. I'm Peter," he said lamely.

"James," I grunted, "This is Sirius, and this is Remus, and our other roommate is Jacob."

Peter suddenly looked terrified.

"Oh no!" he said hoarsely. "He's not in this room, TELL ME he's not in this room!"

"Er…he's not?" Sirius said hopefully.

"Why?" Remus and I asked together.

Peter gulped, and his small, muddy brown eyes darted towards the door. He leaned in closer.

"Well…last night at the feast, he kept on flipping his hair and pulling this mirror out of his pocket," he began. "And then, he noticed me. He started talking to me about nail beds and how blue was so in this season and that's why he wished he was a Ravenclaw."

The worst was yet to come as Peter shuddered and paused dramatically.

"Then he told me I would look absolutely stunning with a little eye make up, and then offered to 'fix me up' tomorrow morning."

He was shaking with terror.

I couldn't help but feel bad for him.

Before we could respond, however, the door creaked.

Peter positively flew for his bed and sprawled across it, trying to look like he was asleep.

Sirius tried to flee, too, but I snatched his elbow, and Remus' as well.

"Safety in numbers," I reminded them.

Steam billowed across the dorm as Jacob stepped out, his hair stick straight with what I suspected was glitter in it.

"Hello boys," he said cheerfully.

I only managed a squeak of terror.

Jacob glanced towards Peter, looking disappointed.

"Still asleep, is he?" he sighed. "Pity. I told him I'd help him out this morning. Perhaps I should go wake him…"

"NO!" Sirius, Remus and I bellowed.

Jacob stared at us through twinkling, walnut eyes.

Wait. What the hell? _Twinkling?_ I had to get away from this kid. He was sapping my manliness.

"Er, er," I stammered, "We should let him sleep, you know? Must be really tired."

Jacob sighed.

"I suppose you're right, Jamie. There's always tomorrow."

He threw me a winning, toothy smile.

He did not just call me Jamie. I think I might strangle this kid.

Before I could react, however, Jacob stepped forward and ran his hand through my messy, black hair.

I positively shrieked in horror.

"Jamie, Jamie," he tutted. "I have some mousse that could work really well on that disobedient hair. Just run it through your hair and then use my straightener. I left it on, if you want to use it!"

I think I might have fainted. Either way I ended up on my back on the floor in shock.

"I'm good," I said weakly, then grabbing Sirius' hand, I bombed toward the bathroom, before he started calling him 'Siri'.

We left Remus behind. We had to; he's probably been called 'Remy' before.

For a few moments, Sirius and I leaned against the door, holding it shut, terrified Jacob would follow us.

I immediately regretted leaving Remus.

"You know, Remus, you have awesome eyebrows. You shouldn't hide them behind a book all day."

It wafted through the door like poison. I heard Remus' attempt at a 'light hearted' laugh, but it came out more as a hysterical sob.

I felt Sirius weave on the spot, close to fainting in horror.

"He's going to murder us in our beds," he whispered, banging his head on the door, "He's going to MURDER us in our beds!"

"No he's not," I grunted roughly. "We'll…we'll avoid him!"

I helped Sirius to his feet, and the two off us carefully threw the straighten- whatsits from the counter, brushed our teeth, and glared darkly at the mousse.

Within two minutes we were ready.

And we looked a thousand times better than Jacob with TWO hours in the bathroom.

Frantic banging on the door made us jump. We cowered behind the sink, fearing the worst….

Remus burst in, looking furious.

"You LEFT me!" he whisper/yelled. "What happened to safety in numbers?"

"You didn't get called Jamie!" I whisper/yelled back.

Remus sighed.

"Look, it's okay, but…" he bit his lip. "Just…don't do it again. I don't have that many friends, and I thought maybe we could…" He looked hopeful. "But of course, you two are way too…you know…popular, and er, cool to…"

I put an arm around him.

"I think we could be great friends," I grinned at him.

"The best!" Sirius agreed, punching him lightly.

Remus beamed.

Within five minutes, we had all washed our faces and finished brushing our teeth. We clambered out of the still smoky bathroom to find both Jacob and Peter gone. Poor, poor, Peter. He must have ran for it the second Jacob was gone….

Classes passed uneventfully, except for the fact that Sirius and I got double detention, we met some gitty Slytherin named Severus Snape (which kinda made you think of Severus Snapeus, which, as Sirius pointed out, could easily be changed to Snivellus Raped Us), and I met this really pretty redhead named Lily who I accidentally shoved down a staircase, all of which shall be covered in the next few chapters.

Remus, Sirius, and I climbed up to our dormitory after less than hour doing homework thanks to the fact that Remus was a genius and Sirius and I were bloody brilliant, anyway. We left Peter cowering in the corner, claiming he might sleep in the common room that night. It was near 11 o'clock.

We found Jacob putting clear liquid on his nails.

"Hello, boys!" he greeted heartily. "Didn't see you much today, hmm?"

"We only had one class with you, and you sat with Alice Longbottom and Amy Finnigan," I said in a small voice.

"Uh, yes…" he beamed at the memory.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked bluntly.

"Hm? Oh, just cleaning up my nail beds, here. They're a right mess, as I told old Petey."

All three of us flinched.

"Did you do your homework, yet?" Remus asked nervously, even though I elbowed him hard. It was obvious Jacob hadn't done any homework that night.

Jacob looked rather puzzled.

"We had homework?" he asked curiously. "Why in heavens do we have that?"

"Um, we're in school," Sirius replied.

"How strange…" Jacob looked mystified. "Well, I'm going to go take a shower." He blew on his nails, waved cheerily, and vanished into the bathroom.

Grabbing Remus and Sirius firmly by the wrist, I dragged them back into the common room. Spotting 'old Petey' in the corner, I beckoned him impatiently.

He looked around behind him, just to see if I gestured to anyone else, then positively tripped over himself to get across the room, stumbling on furniture and knocking over tables, earning him many strange glances.

Way to be subtle.

"Pathetic," Sirius murmured, and I saw even Remus roll his eyes.

"What's up?" he asked shrilly.

"What's up? The fact that I'm afraid to go in my own room, that's what's up!" I shouted angrily.

Calming down, I began again.

"We have **got** to do something," I said violently, and I watched all three boys nod their heads dumbly.

For some reason, this made me a lot happier. I was their leader. They looked to ME for advice. Well, me and Sirius, I assumed, anyway. I would never let Sirius be below me. He was my equal, in all things. And Remus, well, he was pretty much the voice of reason, so he got attention anyway. And Peter, well, Peter, _followed_, I guess.

"Every time I step in that room, I feel my manliness get zapped out of me. By the end of this year, all three of us are going to be checking if our pants make us look fat! I will **not** let that happen," I promised quickly, as Sirius' face turned green.

"What to we do?" asked Remus reasonably.

I was now snapping my fingers anxiously as I paced in front of the boys. Instead of earning me weird looks, however, all of the older Gryffindors smiled at me fondly.

"Oy, Potter! Already found a little group to boss around?" bellowed Tom Wood, a sixth year, grinning widely at me with eyes of affection.

Tinsley Bradford sniffed, but soon smiled, as well.

"Going to maraud around the school?" she teased.

"Potter and the Marauders!" shouted Tom fondly.

God, they all loved me. Me and Sirius, anyway.

I definitely had this school in the BAG.

Wait a second…the Marauders…has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Mind if I use that, Tom?" I bellowed back from the opposite side of the room.

"Of course not!" he beamed.

Remus looked at me with wide eyes, Peter with eyes of disbelief, and Sirius with eyes of absolute mischief.

"You…you want ME to be in the group, too, James?" Peter gasped.

Not really. But I couldn't NOT now that he had heard me…

"Uh, sure," I said, casting Remus and Sirius a despair filled look. Great, a tag along. I would have been happy just with me, Sirius, and Remus.

"The Marauders…causing mischief wherever they go," said a grinning Sirius.

Even Remus smiled. I really liked this kid. I think he thought I didn't want HIM in the group, for a second.

Psh, as if.

"So, back to the current problem, my new Marauders. We could, um, go to McGonagall!" I cried happily.

"That's brilliant, mate," Remus beamed shyly. "She's the Head of House, she'll totally understand!"

"Let's see her after Transfiguration tomorrow!" suggested Sirius.

We all looked at Peter, waiting for him to add something. He looked rather dazed, turned pink, and muttered, "Yeah, sure."

"Right, so I guess we just have to survive one more night," I said with forced cheeriness.

Peter turned a sickly shade of tangerine.

"Mate," Sirius snickered, "You just turned _tangerine_. You look like a fruit!"

Soon everyone in the common room was rolling around laughing.

Except for a very embarrassed Peter, of course.

In higher spirits, Sirius and I led Remus and Peter up to our dormitory, waving cheerily at Tom and Tinsley.

"Bye Potter! Bye, Black! Bye, Lupin! (Remus turned an abashed red at being addressed by a sixth year)," Tom snickered loudly. "Good bye, _Tangerine Boy_!"

We were still laughing as we strolled into our dormitory. Luckily for us, Jacob was still in the bathroom, so we managed to strip off our robes, pull on our pajamas, turn out the lights, and crawl into bed before he even came out.

Things were definitely looking up.

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The next morning was quite the same, as Remus, Sirius, and I woke up basically at dawn to find Jacob already in the bathroom and Peter still snoring loudly. After about an hour's wait during which we ate leftover Chocolate Frogs I found in my bedside table, Jacob came out, a cloud of steam drifting behind him.

"Good morning, Boys!" he sang.

I felt Sirius shaking with fear beside me.

"'Morning, Jacob," said Remus in a barely audible voice.

"Bathroom's all yours, though Jamie," he said sternly, casting a look at my hair, "You really should use that mousse."

"Right, right!" I shouted hurriedly, shoving Sirius and Remus into the bathroom with me. We all breathed a sigh of relief as Jacob walked further away, probably to brush his hair, or whatever.

Ten minutes later we were ready, after a slight fiasco with the toothpaste.

"I haven't taken a shower in three days," I moaned, casting a glance at my hair. I was lucky; it didn't look greasy at all.

Fortunately, neither did Remus' or Sirius', and we clambered out of the bathroom once more. Peter was still asleep. We didn't bother to wake him.

Gathering our books, we crept down the staircase, wincing once at Tom's loud shout of, "OY! POTTER! WERE YOU GOING TO LEAVE WITHOUT SAYING HELLO????"

"Hello, Tom!" I muttered before racing towards the portrait and freedom.

I hardly ate anything at breakfast, I was so nervous. Plus random sixth and seventh years kept on shouting compliments at us. By the end of breakfast, everyone knew we called ourselves the Marauders.

Peter still hadn't shown up yet. Probably still sleeping.

Transfiguration was our first class of the day, and after an exhausting lesson in which I really didn't pay attention to anything but still managed to turn my pin into a needle first, it was over.

I shot both Sirius and Remus looks. Peter, who had arrived just on time, looked at me anxiously and I gave him what I hoped was an encouraging smile.

Slowly, we approached the front desk.

Professor McGonagall glanced up at us and smiled thinly.

"Hello, James. Excellent work today, by the way. Is something wrong?" she asked, glancing at our somber faces.

I took a deep breath.

"Yes, Professor, there is. It's—it's about our roommate, Jacob Lennox."

"What about him?" she glanced up suspiciously at us.

"You've—You've GOT to move him out of our dorm!" I said desperately, followed by fervent nods from Remus, Peter, and Sirius.

Mcgonagall looked furious.

"Never…in all my years…the NERVE of you three!" she shouted, causing us all to jump. "Just because you don't like him, and don't want him to be a Marauder-yes, I know about your foolish group, Potter- you want him kicked of your dorm?"

Oh no.

"You don't know what he DOES to us!" Sirius wailed hysterically, unable to contain himself.

"What does he do, Black?" McGonagall was dangerously close.

"He zaps our manliness!" Peter yelped.

"Your _what_?"

That's around the time we all panicked and started talking nonstop, but in a coherent way that McGonagall was able to hear everything.

"The first time I met him, he told me I had gorgeous eyes and that I should wear gray more often—

"He was reading _Vogue_, Professor, I swear—

"He spent two hours in the bathroom the next morning, two hours!"

"He ran his hand through my hair, Professor, and told me to use mousse and a straightener, whatever that is. You just don't DO THAT to people!"

A muscle in McGonagall's cheek was twitching, but she remained silent.

"He told me I had great eyebrows and not hide them behind a book all day—

"He put some liquid stuff on his nails, last night, and didn't do any homework, seemed quite shocked when we told him we HAD homework—

But it was Peter that won her over.

"He…he told me I would look stunning with a little eye make up, and…and…" Peter gulped, and we nodded him on encouragingly. "And he offered to fix me up," he finished faintly.

She looked stunned.

"Oh…oh…._oh_. The situation's much more, er, _different_ than I thought…I suppose I should…well, I _must_…I will arrange to have Lennox removed from your dormitory, and possibly this school."

It was all I could do not to shriek with joy.

"You shall have just four boys in your dorm now, I guess," McGonagall continued, still recovering. "However," and she looked stern again, "No funny business, got it?"

All four of us nodded mutely, afraid if we speak we would shout and sing.

"I'll find Dumbledore, now, I suppose…I _always_ thought, you know…" she sighed heavily. "Goodbye, boys."

And with that, Professor McGonagall strode from the room, still looking dazed and confused.

For several seconds, not one of us spoke, and then, at exactly the same moment, Sirius and I started singing 'Sweet Caroline' at the top of our lungs.

"SWEET CAROLINE, BOM BOM BOM! WITHOUT YOU GOOD TIMES NEVER SEEMED SO GOOD! SO GOOD! SO GOOD! OHHHH!"

After several moments of stunned silence, Peter and Remus joined in as well.

We were back.

And as for Jacob Lennox, we, we never saw him again. Rumors flew around that he got moved to the girls' dormitory.

None of us doubted this.

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_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review! The more reviews I get, the faster I update!**_

_**Love to all, **_

_**Danielle**_


	3. What To Do On Your First Day of Hogwarts

**A/N: Sorry it took me a while to update, I had a hard time brainstorming…anyway, this chapter takes place while Jacob is still in their dorm, but it doesn't really concern him, there's too much else going on…oh, and Peter's not in the beginning of this, he had a class with Jacob then, he'll be in the next part, though…**

**Thanks to all my reviewers: sun-star-n-moon, MagicallyNormal, Sweet or Sour, Chandy23, PhantomoftheBasket, LyLMystiKelf, PoniesHateSirius, pandas rule the world,**

**Ruby89: This chapter has several scenes between Lily and James, like you suggested**

**and ProngsxLilyflower: Ha. I reviewed first again…**

**Disclaimer: ****As soon as Harry Potter becomes a buyable stock and I buy all of them, I do not own Harry Potter.**

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**Chapter 2: What to Do On Your First Day at Hogwarts, Part I**

When Sirius, Remus, and I managed to find our way down to the Great Hall after twenty minutes of aimless wandering, tripping on rugs, knocking over suits of armor, and writing rude words on an empty class room chalk board, we had no idea what lay ahead of us that day.

We sat down at the far end of the table, as far away from Jacob Lennox as was humanly possible without eating outside. Remus immediately yanked a book out of his bag and began to read, which left Sirius with nothing to do, which is always a bad thing.

I reached toward a cup of tea, but Sirius slapped my arm away from it.

"Don't worry, mate, I'll make you a cup of tea!" he said cheerfully. "In fact, I'll make your entire breakfast."

Oh no.

"Why? What did I do to you?" I begged.

But he did not hear me, or just ignored me, because he pulled a mug towards him and began to prepare my meal.

Every time I looked in his direction, he would shout rather wildly, "NO PEEKING!" so I was left to stare into space for several moments as the mail arrived, and my large eagle owl, which Sirius had dubbed the-bird-who-flies-around-and-delivers-things, or Bird, came swooping towards the table, carrying many parcels.

Bird wasn't exactly fond of me, either.

I didn't have time to duck.

The first parcel was a rather heavy textbook on Defense Against the Dark Arts, which hit me square in the mouth. The second package was a tin of sweets that exploded in the middle of the Gryffindor table, peppering everyone with jellybeans.

The third item was a large potted plant that luckily missed me by inches and instead smashed into a third year Ravenclaw passing the table.

I know. What a waste of a good potted plant.

Chuckling and wiping a trickle of blood from my lip, I turned around to see Sirius squirting copious amounts of maple syrup into my teacup, upending the sugar bowl and pouring it all over my toast, and throwing dollops of honey into the unfortunate mug.

"Sirius!"

"Hmmm?" he replied rather distractedly, as he was now spreading marmalade on my pancake.

"_What are you doing?"_

"Making your breakfast. I told you that already."

Before I had a chance to reply, however, Professor McGonagall, who seemed to be in a very bad mood, began to pass out the schedules. She was handing them out so fast that many students, caught unawares, were receiving vicious stabs in the eye and brutal paper cuts from their schedules.

"Potter! Black! Here are your schedules!" she snapped at us, shoving two crumpled looking papers into our chests.

She's in a bad mood…I really shouldn't….

"MR. Potter, if you don't mind," I corrected, beaming at her.

"And MR. Black, as well," Sirius announced from beside me.

"You see," I continued, watching her twitch in fury, "WE don't call you McGonagall, now do we? The least you can do is show us the same respect, and we'll get on great."

"I—I—"she spluttered in rage, "I will call you whatever I want to call you! Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek! You, Potter, are exactly like your father."

"Who am I like?" Sirius asked eagerly.

"Uh…well, you're…an original, Black," McGonagall said, clearly at a loss to label Sirius.

"Oh," he said, looking crestfallen, "Right."

And with that, McGonagall threw Remus his schedule, and as he was still absorbed in his book, he shouted loudly, "Where's the cannon?", upended a bowl of porridge, and stabbed himself in the hand with a fork.

Sirius turned to look at me.

"Well, we've already gotten in trouble today, so now what do we do?" he asked curiously.

I glanced down at my plate.

"Well, since diabetes runs in my family, I probably shouldn't eat this, so I guess we should go to," I consulted my schedule and groaned loudly, "Double Potions with the Slytherins!"

"Right," said Sirius grimly as we stood up, swung our bags over our shoulders, and collected Remus from under the table, "I guess we should."

As we left the Great Hall, however, we saw a certain roommate of ours strolling out of the open front doors accompanied by several Hufflepuff girls. I shuddered in revulsion, and none of us spoke until we reached the darkness of the dungeon hallways.

Sirius began to act very strangely, even for his standards.

"Do you think Jacob's a werewolf?" he asked conversationally.

Remus's head whipped around so quickly I heard an ominous crack.

"Why do you think that?" he asked sharply.

"I don't know, it's just that last night someone in our dorm kept on murmuring 'full moon, no, no, not the full moon' in their sleep. I reckon it was him."

Remus paled considerably.

"I suppose he might be," he answered carefully.

Before I could ask Remus if he was afraid that Jacob would attack us, as I definitely was at the moment, Sirius decided to play a different tactic to freak us out as we dragged ourselves down the dingy stairs.

"There's a bat in your hair, Jamie."

"No there's not."

"Yes there is. That's why it's so disobedient."

"It's disobedient because he didn't use mousse, Sirius."

"Shut up and return your good eyebrows to your book."

"Sirius, I noticed you're wearing a gray t-shirt," I teased as we approached a sharp turn in the staircase. "You're eyes REALLY are gorgeous."

Sirius attempted to shove me down the staircase as we turned onto the new landing.

This, however, didn't work, because a small, red-headed, Gryffindor first year was clambering up the steps, and I collided full force into her, sending her tumbling down the stone steps, accompanied by yelps and sickening thuds on every step she smashed into. I would have followed her, had Remus not grabbed the back of my robes at the last second and saved me.

For several long, breathless seconds, Sirius, Remus, and I stared at each other. At the same exact second, we all hurtled down the staircase after her, albeit more carefully.

She was lying on her back spread-eagled in the darkness. The contents of her book bag lay scattered on the floor. We approached her body cautiously.

Even after smashing down a staircase, she was exceptionally pretty. Her red locks were tangled so thoroughly it looked like a rat's nest, and her full lips were bleeding, but she still managed to make it work.

As Remus knelt down to check her pulse, Sirius became hysterical.

"Oh my God! I killed someone! I KILLED SOMEONE!" he wailed, giving the girl's nearest book a hard kick.

"Relax, Sirius—" Remus began.

"You know what this means, James?" he whispered, seizing the front of my robes. _"Do you know what this means?"_

"Um…you've…become your mother?" I answered, in hopes he would let go of his iron grip on my shoulders.

"Exactly," he nodded frantically, clearly upset. "And I promised that I would never let that happen!"

"Sirius—" Remus tried again from the floor. 

"We'll have to hide the body," Sirius muttered, letting go of me and beginning to pace. "Yes, yes, we'll have to…James," he said distractedly, "Do you have a knife with a six, seven-inch long blade?"

"What?" 

"We're going to have to cut her stomach open, and put something heavy in it, and throw her in the lake, so she'll sink…or we could tie something really heavy to her, she'll go right down without a trace…."

"James, listen to me—"

"I am taking no part in this!" I shouted indignantly, ignoring Remus's feeble protests from the floor.

Sirius whirled around to face me.

"Listen, Potter, if I'm going down I'm taking you with me! I will sing like a canary unless you—"

"OY! WILL THE TWO OF YOU BLOODY SHUT UP, SHE'S NOT DEAD!" Remus bellowed.

"She's…not?" said Sirius faintly.

"No, she's not dead," Remus said irritably, "But you two were too busy plotting ways to dispose of the body and evidence to listen to me."

I knelt beside the girl.

"How do we wake her up?" I asked Remus, who shrugged helplessly.

Sirius figured it out.

"I know!" he exclaimed excitedly, and he wound up and gave the poor girl a terrific kick to the ribs.

"Oh my God!" Remus bellowed, clearly shocked. "You just kicked an injured, unconscious girl!"

"What? Neither of you two would, and it doesn't matter, it's Prissy Evans."

"Prissy who?" I asked interestedly.

"I heard Amy Finnigan making fun of her at breakfast. She's a stuck-up brown-noser, A.K.A Remus's future girlfriend," Sirius said smugly, looking at her in distaste.

Remus flushed.

"She's not my type!" he snapped, but before he could continue, Prissy Evans groaned.

"Why do I feel like someone kicked me in the ribs?"

"Uh, well, you just fell down a staircase," Sirius answered embarrassedly, shuffling his feet.

Evans struggled to sit up and opened her eyes, revealing startlingly green, curious orbs that narrowed as she took in Sirius's obvious embarrassment, Remus's blush, and me humming and picking at my nails.

"One of you kicked me, didn't you?"

"Well, you wouldn't get up," Sirius answered defensively.

Evans's face was filled with disbelief.

"_I'm unconscious, so you kick me in the hopes of waking me up and not cracking my ribcage?"_

"It wasn't exactly like that," I interjected sheepishly. "We thought you were dead, so we were going to throw you in the lake, but—"

"You were going to DROWN me?" she whispered faintly.

"What else were we going to do with you?" Sirius snapped, and Prissy Evans put her face in her hands.

"How did I fall down the staircase?" she asked from between her fingers.

"Funny story that," began Sirius awkwardly, "Well, _jokingly_, I shoved James, here, but, well, he collided with you and sent you down the staircase."

"You shoved me down a staircase," Evans stated slowly.

"No—we _accidentally_ shoved you down a staircase. There's a difference."

Evans turned her bright, green eyes on me.

"How come you didn't fall down the staircase?" she demanded angrily.

"I saved him right in time," Remus offered, speaking for the first time.

"So you saved him, and not me. Thanks."

"No!" Remus began hurriedly, "It wasn't like that, we didn't have time to grab—"

"You know what, forget it," Evans snapped, her voice higher than usual. "I'm sure you three are all purebloods, thought it'd be fun to pick on the Muggle-born girl—"

"Shut up!" I shouted angrily. "We aren't like that, so what if we all come from wizarding families, it doesn't matter!"

Evans had scrambled to her feet and was now lurching around, gathering up her books and papers. I was so angry I didn't even offer to help her.

She held up a tattered looking Herbology book, which I recognized as the one Sirius had kicked.

"What happened to my book?" Evans demanded quietly.

"Oh, I, er, kicked it," Sirius said offhandedly.

"You kicked it."

"Yes."

"And then you kicked me?"

"Not RIGHT after, but yeah, eventually I—"

But Prissy Evans shoved the book into her bag, turned on her heel, and marched away, in the direction of the Potions room.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

We arrived in the dingy dungeon to find Evans setting up her equipment in the very front of the room, pointedly ignoring us. The three of us slouched to the back of the classroom, behind a greasy-haired Slytherin sitting alone at the table in front of us. We were, surprisingly, some the first people in the room.

"This class is going to be so boring," Sirius complained loudly as he set up his solid gold cauldron beside my identical one and Remus's pewter one. "I mean, I don't even know why we bother going, we're going to pass it anyway—"

The Slytherin in front of us gave a derisive snort of laughter.

"You got something to say?" Sirius demanded sharply.

The boy turned to reveal a hooked nose, black eyes, and pallid skin.

"Oh, no," he said silkily, "just wondering if a pass for you is a D…"

"Who are you?" I demanded sharply.

"Severus Snape," he sneered.

"Severus, eh?" I stated slowly, as though speaking to someone mentally retarded. "Well, I am James Potter, and this is Sirius Black, and this is Remus Lupin, and you don't talk to us like that. You see, we normal-named people don't take crap from a git like you."

Sirius and Remus snickered loudly as Severus paled.

"Keep laughing, Black," he hissed, "but everyone's wondering why you aren't in Slytherin, Bellatrix is very disappointed in you…"

Sirius snorted.

"Bella wouldn't give you a second glance, let alone talk to you, Stimbulus."

He was saved a reply as Professor Slughorn, the round-bellied, jovial Potions master swept into the room.

"Today, class," he called out cheerfully, "We will be making a very simple potion that causes boils when contact is made with human skin. All the supplies you need you will find in your basic potions kit, the directions," he gave his wand a little flick, "are on the board. You have an hour and a half. Begin!"

Sirius and I grinned at each other. We had just had a brilliant, superlative, idea.

"Are you thinking," Sirius whispered out of the corner of his mouth as he stirred his potion seven times counter clock-wise, "What I'm thinking?"

"Exactly the same thought," I muttered quietly as I measured the amount of wings of mayflies I needed.

The three of us worked in silence for over an hour, perfecting our potions with armadillo bile and beetle eyes as Slughorn watched approvingly, awarding points and joking. Sirius wasn't kidding. Evans was a wicked brown-noser, she kept on beaming at Slughorn in a sickening way that forced me to pretend to gag loudly most of the lesson.

After an eternity, Slughorn finally called,

"You have ten more minutes! Please place flasks full of your samples on my desk and empty your cauldrons while I go and check up on something for the next class, need to make sure we have enough boomslang skin…"

And to my utter delight, Slughorn swept out of the room.

Sirius and I placed our flasks carefully on his desk, headed to our seats, exchanged curt nods, carefully picked up our cauldrons, and, at exactly the same moment, dumped the Boil Potion all over Severus Snape's greasy head.

Everyone, Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, howled with laughter as Snape erupted in hideous, pus-filled, boils.

Almost everyone, anyway.

"HOW COULD YOU?"

Sirius and I whirled around to see Prissy Evans glaring at us, shaking with rage.

"What?" I grinned slyly. "Slughorn told us to empty our cauldrons. We did!"

The whole classroom burst into laughter as Snape sniffled on the floor, every inch of his skin covered in boils.

"Aw, he's sniffling!" Sirius sneered. "Severus is sniffling!"

"Snivelly Severus," a haughty-looking Slytherin spat. Apparently he wasn't very popular there, either.

"Snivellus, you mean," I shouted, to raucous rounds of laughter.

"Leave him alone, James," Prissy Evans snarled.

"Or what?" I asked casually.

"Or I'll jinx you until you resemble a slug," she said fiercely.

"Tall words coming from a girl who didn't know the wizarding world existed a month ago," said Sirius coldly.

Evans looked livid, turned on her heel, and marched out of the dungeon room.

"Where's she going?" Remus asked in an undertone, staring in a puzzled manner at the classroom door.

"Who cares?" retorted pretty Amy Finnigan. "As long as we don't have to deal with her, I'm fine."

We found out less than five minutes later when the dungeon door smashed open, a white-faced Professor McGonagall and a shocked-looking Professor Slughorn towering over us, with Prissy Evans by their side.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

**A/N: Well, there's a cliffie for you! This chapter would be wayyyyy too long if I wrote it all right now, so there's a Part I, Part II, and maybe a Part III. The more reviews I get, the faster I update…**

**Oh and if anyone has ideas about what James's and Sirius's punishment should be, or just ideas for future chapters, let me know. **

**Like it? Hate it? Love it? Adore it? Get the point yet?**

**-Danielle**


	4. What to Do On Your First Week At Hogwart

**A/N: Here I am again! Ha. I'm actually updating a lot. Everyone who read the Last of Lily Evans know me and Kristen have an…uh, updating problem, shall we say? Lol Well, here's the second part of the boys' first day at Hogwarts, and it may span to a day or two later for when they serve their detention, with Peter, incidentally, who got in trouble in his Transfiguration class when they were in Potions…I know that all the Gryffindor first years have their classes together, but for a lack of creativity Peter and Jacob weren't in their first class. From now on, however, Peter will be in all of their classes. **

**Thanks to all my reviewers: PunkPrincezz017, Charmed luver222, izthedoodler, Genairco Chook, opungo, the-one-and-only, dancer4eva, Lady Merlin, wHoS rAb, CrayolaxSmiles, Cuban Sombrero Gal,**

**Lambgirl 1: I really liked your punishment idea, so I kind of twisted it a little bit…let's just say PART of their punishment gets read aloud to the entire school…**

**Tyem Marodyor: Ha. I'm gonna write that chapter really soon. I'm thinking a lot of attempted escapes from the windows…**

**ProngsxLilyFlower: Another potted plant might make an appearance later on…lol ******** update soon! **

**Disclaimer: ****As soon as Harry Potter becomes a buyable stock and I buy all of them, I do not own Harry Potter.**

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

**Chapter 3: What to Do On Your First Week at Hogwarts, Part II**

Oh crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap, _crap._

"Oh my goodness! Severus!" Professor McGonagall gasped, staring down at the swollen thing that bore a vague resemblance to the pupil.

Slowly, her beady eyes swiveled around, taking in the scene: Remus, Sirius, and I standing a few feet from him, looking guilty and staring determinedly at each other's feet; Slytherins and Gryffindors trying to edge back to their original tables without making noise or attracting attention; and the two golden cauldrons, sprawled incriminatingly over the floor. I gave mine a quick kick that I tried to pass off as a muscle spasm, which didn't quite work.

"What did youthree do?" she snarled at us, edging slowly across the room as Slughorn bustled over to Snivellus and began evaluating his condition.

Before I could even respond, however, Remus spoke.

"Three?" he squeaked, in a strangled, manic voice. "_Three?"_

"Yes, Lupin, you three, the number that comes after two!" McGonagall snapped.

"I didn't do anything!" he shouted hysterically.

McGonagall regarded him coldly.

"Did you stop Potter and Black here from pouring their potions all over him, and try to help him when you saw he was injured?"

"Mr. Black, if you would be so kind—"

"Can it, Black!" McGonagall hissed, "Well? Did you?"

"No, but neither did anyone—"

"Detention!" McGonagall's eyes gleamed in a kind of fanatical rage. "All three of you! You're lucky I don't expel you three, this behavior is shocking, twenty points from Gryffindor, as well—"

"BUT I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING!" Remus shouted hysterically. "I got blamed for shoving Evans down the staircase, and now I get blamed for this—"

Oh Remus. Why?

The entire classroom was deathly silent.

"Mr. Lupin," McGonagall said in a strangled sort of voice, "are you telling me that you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Black here shoved Ms. Evans down a staircase?"

Every eye in the room flicked over to Prissy Evans, who was kneeling near Snivellus, her face bright red, which only made her now purpling bruises glaringly obvious.

I tried to catch her eye, to tell her that if she told McGonagall we did it on purpose I would personally throw her off the Astronomy Tower and make it look like an accident.

"Well…they didn't mean to…it was kind of, well, a freak accident," she muttered unhelpfully.

Professor McGonagall swept her beady eyes over Evans's heavily bruised face, our guilty expressions, and came to her decision.

"I will excuse the incident with Ms. Evans as an accident," she breathed slowly, "However, I cannot ignore this act against Severus. What you three- _yes_, the three of you, Mr. Lupin- did is unacceptable. I'm appalled at the three of you! Four Gryffindors in trouble in one day! The first day!"

Four?

"Um, Professor?" I began tentatively, "There…there are only three of us."

"I know that, Potter, I can count!" she snapped. "I'm talking about your roommate Peter Pettigrew!"

My head shot up, as did Sirius's and Remus's.

"What did Peter do?" I asked curiously.

McGonagall pursed her lips, still glaring at the three of us.

"During my Transfiguration class, Jacob Lennox attempted to sit next to Pettigrew. The foolish boy stood up screaming, flipped over the desk, and attempted to escape out the nearest window. Don't know why, exactly, but all the same…"

I, of course, knew _exactly _what caused Peter's reaction.

Poor kid.

Professor McGonagall continued, oblivious of our collective shudder.

"Now, the three of you will—"

Far off in the distance, a bell rang, signaling break, causing every single person in the room to jump; even Snivellus had been oddly quiet, as he was listening raptly.

McGonagall seemed to remember Snape as well.

"Oh! Severus! Miss Evans, will you please escort him to the hospital wing? Madam Pomfrey will need to attend to him immediately…"

I sidled towards the door, trying to join the throng of student bustling towards the door.

Almost there…she hasn't seen me…

Four more feet…two…one…

"URGH!"

I was yanked back into the room by the collar of my robes by a livid McGonagall, who didn't seem to notice she was strangling me in her grip.

"_Where do you think you are going, Potter?" _

"Mr.—Potter…it's—urgh—bre—break!" I choked out, my face turning bright purple.

She seemed to realize she was choking me.

"Oh, sorry about that, James," she said uninterestedly, watching me shove my glasses back on and gasp for breath.

"It's…it's…okay," I managed, massaging my neck.

"Now…the three of you- yes, three, Lupin- will meet me in my office at eight o'clock tomorrow night," she continued, bluntly ignoring me choking in the background massaging my windpipe. "I will ask Professor Dumbledore for his opinion in the matter, and to consider your punishment. Rest assured, he will hear about the incident with Ms. Evans on the staircase, I doubt he will be very—_Mr. Potter, will you stop hacking up a lung, I'm trying to speak!" _

"…Sorry."

"It's quite all right. I understand you're having trouble breathing, but I would appreciate it if you would do it more quietly."

"…Yes, Professor."

"Now…ah, yes, Dumbledore will be informed about all of what you three- yes the three of you, Lupin- did this morning. You may go to break now, but if I so much as hear that another point has been taken away from Gryffindor by the three of you -good God, Lupin, stop wincing every time I say three like I'm condemning you to death- I will drag you by your ears to the Hogwarts express, no questions asked."

She looked sternly down from her formidable height at us.

"Yes, Professor," we mumbled in unison.

"Good…now get out of my sight!" she snapped.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I tramped into the courtyard, followed by a disgruntled looking Sirius and a pale and panicked looking Remus. I knew we were all thinking the same thought: Find Prissy Evans and murder her.

"Once—I—find—that—girl—I'm—going—to—throw—her—in—the—lake—and—make—sure—she—doesn't—come—back—up!" Sirius hissed from behind clenched teeth.

"Kind of makes you wish we did slice her stomach, open, doesn't it?" Remus replied moodily.

I scanned the courtyard.

"Come on, mates, we can find her," I grinned, attempting a smile.

Sirius frowned at me.

"Are you in pain?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"_Yes." _

"No internal bleeding, bursting appendix?"

"No!" I repeated, thoroughly annoyed.

"Well, you look like you are," he told me, still observing me worriedly, "You're grimacing."

"I'm smiling."

"Smiling?"

"Smiling."

"Your teeth are clenched and a muscle in your cheek is twitching."

"I'm _smiling, _Sirius, smiling."

"Well, stop. You're doing it all wrong. You look really creepy and deranged."

"Deranged?"

"Deranged."

"How can you smile wrong?"

"I'm not sure, but you are."

"Look," Remus interjected angrily, "Let's stop arguing about whether James is smiling or not, we're trying to find Evans!"

"Right, right," I muttered distractedly, turning away from Sirius's mystified look and observing the courtyard. "Just look for red hair that looks like a rat's nest and big, hideous bruises."

After several seconds of silence, Sirius exclaimed excitedly, "There she is!"

Remus and I spun around.

"Where?" Remus demanded.

"Right…there," Sirius said, pointing at a small Gryffindor first year with brown hair who was certainly not Prissy Evans.

Remus and I exchanged looks of disbelief.

"Sirius," Remus began patiently, as though explaining the colors of the rainbow to a temperamental, tantrum-prone toddler, "That's not Evans."

"Of course it is!" Sirius snapped.

"Sirius, her hair his brown," Remus said kindly.

"Are you serious?" Sirius exploded, squinting at the girl. "Her hair is definitely red. You people need help."

Maybe we _are_ explaining the colors of the rainbow to a temperamental, tantrum-prone toddler.

"Look, you idiot, that's not Evans, that's Kellie MacLean, and last time I saw her up close, her hair was brown!" I retorted furiously.

"It looks more auburn, to me," Sirius replied sheepishly.

"Yes," Remus repeated thoughtfully, "Yes, I suppose her hair is more auburn than brown—"

"Who cares if her hair is brown or auburn?" I snapped, irritated. "This is about finding Prissy Evans and throwing her—"

"Do you really want to finish that sentence, James?"

The three of us whirled around to find Prissy Evans with her hands on her hips, glaring at us.

"And throwing her a birthday party!" Sirius answered hastily, smiling at her brightly in an unconvincing, cheery manner, seeing as he kept clenching and unclenching his hands.

"My birthday is in March," she said coldly.

"I always hated March the most out of all the other months," I muttered under my breath.

"Charming," Evans said dismissively, dusting off her robes with a look of boredom, "I just wanted to tell you that Snape is still covered in boils and may be in the hospital wing for the rest of the week, thanks to you, and that's not _funny!_" she added sharply as Sirius and I high-fived.

"Gosh, Evans," Sirius smirked, "I really don't think what we find funny is any of your business, so why don't you run along to McGonagall like a good teacher's pet and ask for a belly rub?"

Prissy Evans flushed angrily.

"You guys think you're so cool, just because all the older kids like you, and that makes you think you can stomp on everyone else. If all those older kids found out what you did to Snape they'd—"

"They'd probably cheer and throw a party," Remus interrupted, annoyed. "Why are you coming over to tell us this, because frankly—"

"Because frankly, I think you're an ambitious, self-righteous—"

"Annoying," Sirius added helpfully.

"Annoying girl who's miserable, and wants everyone else to be miserable, and even though she memorized _Hogwarts, A History_, by heart, she still has no idea about House rivalry, or friendship, or people in general, and just because—"

"And just because _you_ want everyone to be treated fairly," Sirius continued, eyes shining with anger, "It doesn't always mean—"

"It doesn't always mean they _deserve_ to be treated fairly," finished Remus.

"Now goodbye, Evans, we have a Charms class to get to," I said stiffly. "You may want to try and talk to the other girls, because frankly, they're probably forming a club against you."

"I'll have to talk to Amy about getting a button," Sirius joked, and the three of us turned on our heels and left a livid Prissy Evans wordlessly mouthing at us.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Remus, Sirius, Peter, and I slumped into the Great Hall for dinner after an exhausting day of lessons, avoiding a crazed Evans and a feminine roommate, and homework. Peter, who had joined up with us after break, seemed rather jumpy, and kept glancing around as though expecting Jacob to jump out from under the table and attempt to force him into eyeliner.

"Hey guys," Amy Finnigan said gloomily, collapsing into the seat across from me.

"Hey," I said, looking briefly up from my treacle tart to smile at her.

"Did you hear what happened to Liza Boot?" she said eagerly after a few moments of silence.

Girls and gossip. Blah.

"What happened to her?" Sirius asked dully.

"Apparently at breakfast, she claims to have been smashed in the head with a potted plant!" Amy continued, enjoying Peter and Remus's incredulous looks.

Sirius and I exchanged dark looks.

"Really?" I said casually, leaning back in my seat. "What—er—happened to her?"

"Oh, she's in the hospital wing with a cracked skull," Amy said dismissively.

"That's…that's too bad," I managed, feeling rather guilty.

"I know!" Amy sighed ruefully. "I just don't know what kind of sick person would try and hurt her like that! She's the sweetest girl, really it's just a shame."

Sirius gave a delicate, accusing cough.

"Maybe," he began conspiratorially, "Someone didn't THROW it at her; maybe they dropped it on her!"

I was saved interrogation by Remus.

"So, Amy," Remus began, putting down his fork, "Have you talked to Evans yet?"

As one, we glanced down to the far end of the table where Prissy Evans was cutting up her steak like it had done her a great personal wrong.

"Why would I talk to her?" Amy spat, flipping her sandy hair over her shoulder. "After what she did in Potions, I won't be surprised if I never talk to her again!"

"Hear, hear," Peter said gloomily, raising his glass of pumpkin juice half-heartedly. "Some first day, huh?"

Amy seemed to notice Peter.

"Oh, Peter, did you really try to commit suicide in Transfiguration?"

Peter flushed a dull pink.

"No, I did not!" he snapped, "I just tried to jump out the window!"

"Oh, well, everyone's talking about it," Amy said bluntly, "They probably think you're depressed. Don't be surprised if Madam Pomfrey doesn't try to place a Cheering Charm on you."

Great, Peter on magic Prozac. That's all I need.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

As Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I slumped up the stairs to Professor McGonagall's study, I felt my stomach clenching tighter and tighter with every step. What was she going to have us do? Clean chalkboards? Write lines? Give Peeves a haircut?

If that's what we had to do, we were in for a tough night.

We arrived at McGonagall's door, exchanging glances. None of us were willing to actually go in there.

"We can do this!" I rallied, gazing hopelessly at my troops.

Sirius snorted.

"Ay, Ay, Captain Commando."

I'm really starting to think he can read my mind…

Wait a minute, I can use this to my advantage…

Kick Peter down the staircase and I'll give you pie!

He snorted again.

"I already had pie at dinner, do it yourself."

Ooookay…I wasn't _serious_ about that…

"Um…alright…let's go," I stuttered, after realizing Sirius could most likely read my mind, and that I would need to learn Occlumency.

I turned around, took a deep breath, and threw open the door to the study.

Of course, being me, I threw it open with such force it smashed into the wall and the glass panels broke.

McGonagall, who had been perched behind a pile of paperwork, glared at me beadily.

"Good job, Potter," she snapped, flicking her wand at the broken panel and muttering "Reparo!"

"Now," McGonagall began more calmly, pointing at four desks, each equipped with parchment and quills, "You three will be writing letters of apology to both Mr. Snape and Ms. Evans, and you, Peter, will be writing an apology to Mr. Lennox. I felt that a harsher punishment was needed, but Dumbledore believed this would suffice."

Her nostrils flared in disapproval.

"That's…that's it?" I asked, shocked.

Looks like Peeves would have to wait for another day to get a haircut…

"Yes, that's it," she answered, gnashing her teeth, and she sank behind her pile of papers.

I grinned at Sirius, and slumped into my chair, beaming. Letters of apology…thank you, Dumbledore!

Now…what to write…what to write to dear, old Snivellus…

I think I know just what to say.

Twenty minutes later, as one, Sirius, Peter, Remus, and I stood up, walked dutifully up to McGonagall's desk, and handed her our papers. To my surprise, however, she didn't read them, even glance at them, but sealed them all shut with another flick of her wand.

"Aren't you going to read them?" Remus asked uncertainly, looking crestfallen. Knowing him, he wrote an essay.

"No," McGonagall replied absentmindedly, immersed in her papers. "No, Professor Dumbledore is reading them aloud to the school tomorrow morning."

"What?" Sirius and I bellowed at the same time, horrified.

"Yes," McGonagall smiled, smirking up at us, "Yes, he wanted to see what you would write honestly to your fellow students. Have a good night, boys."

Nothing that makes McGonagall that happy is good for us.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I barely slept that night. I was doomed. I was worse than doomed. Even though Jacob Lennox was out of our dormitory, I still felt ill and terrified.

I woke very early the next morning, took a quick, necessary shower, and faced my reflection. I sincerely hoped McGonagall had been joking when she said our letters of apology were going to be read aloud.

I changed slowly, exchanging glances with a grim-faced Sirius and a pale, defeated Remus. Peter was asleep, of course, so Sirius grabbed the pitcher of water and poured it all over him, which was quite amusing, as he believed he had wet the bed and assured us nothing was wrong in a high-pitched voice as he mumbled incoherently and bombed off for the bathroom.

But then we remembered we were already dead and it was only our third day at Hogwarts.

After a while, Peter trudged out of the bathroom looking highly embarrassed, but I was too downhearted for Peter-baiting. Slowly, the four of us descended into the now deserted common room and headed for the portrait door.

Sirius cleared his throat.

"Uh, James? Did you sign your letters with your, uh, middle name?" he asked hoarsely.

Oh, Sirius.

I nodded wordlessly.

"I did too," Sirius said glumly.

"Same," Remus agreed in a strained voice.

"Sirius," I began quietly, "I used all of them."

He shot me a horrified look.

"Oh, no," he muttered anxiously.

Peter looked put out.

"I didn't use my middle name," he complained loudly, "I just put Peter on my apology to Jacob, were we—"

"Shut up, Peter, you prat!" I snapped at him, making him jump. "You don't understand that Sirius and I have the most embarrassing middle names you could have."

"Pureblood mania," Sirius spat, looking angry. "And my mother's defense is that 'it's a family name, you should be proud'…"

"At least you only have one."

"This is true," Sirius conceded, looking sympathetic, but before I could reply, we reached the Great Hall.

I walked towards my seat like I was a man sentenced to the gallows, and sank onto the bench next to Amy, who looked sympathetic and patted me on the back.

Everyone seemed gloomy. Bird didn't even attempt to kill me. Sirius refused to make my breakfast. Remus played with his fork. Peter chewed his nails and glanced around nervously.

After what seemed an eternity, Dumbledore stood up, and the student's confusion ebbed away.

"Good morning," he called cheerfully. "Now, four Gryffindor students were given a punishment to write apology letters to the ones they harmed, and as part of the detention, I must read them aloud. I want your undivided attention, please."

Dumbledore snatched a piece of parchment from the small pile in front of him. I felt Remus groan beside me as he cleared his throat and began in a clear, ringing, voice:

"Dear, Lily," he began, blue eyes twinkling, "I'm sorry that Sirius shoved James, who hit you, and that you fell down the steps. I'm sorry that Sirius kicked you and your Herbology book. I promise I'll get you a new one if that one falls apart. I'm equally sorry that we didn't have a chance to explain everything when you came to, and that we freaked you out a little bit. We were only joking about cutting your stomach open with a seven-inch knife. I hope you'll be okay and be able to forgive us. Best, Remus Romulus Lupin."

A polite smattering of applause followed, which was punctured by howls of laughter at the middle name Romulus. Remus sank lower in his seat so that only his sandy hair was visible.

Prissy Evans, whose first name is apparently Lily, looked deeply embarrassed and tugged her curls so that they hid her heavily bruised face.

"Excellent, Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore beamed, "And now…how about…an apology from Mr. Black to Mr. Severus Snape!" Dumbledore slit the letter open, turned red, and read embarrassedly, "Snape, Bite me you boil-covered, greasy-haired, hooked nose GIT. Sirius."

The entire hall was roaring with laughter by now, save a furious McGonagall, a rather amused Dumbledore, and Sirius, who looked rather proud of himself.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore tutted, looking perplexed, "Oh dear. Well, perhaps his apology to Ms. Evans will be better, yes?"

"No," Sirius whispered under his breath.

But Dumbledore had already flicked open the envelope.

"Prissy Evans, I'm really sorry I shoved you accidentally down a staircase, kicked your book, kicked you, plotted to throw your body in a lake, and called you annoying. I know deep beneath your bossy, self-righteous surface is a really great girl. So until she comes out, please leave me alone. I almost killed you once, so I suppose I could do it again.

"Best wishes that your ribcage isn't shattered, Sirius Julius Black."

No one was clapping anymore. Most people were pelting Sirius with rolled up napkins, bellowing, _"JULIUS?"_

Lily Evans was white-faced with fury.

Dumbledore looked rather put out.

"A little better, yes," he shouted, commanding everyone's attention. "Yes, how about we mix it up a bit…an apology from Peter to Mr. Lennox?"

Pity Jacob Lennox hasn't been seen for a little under 24 hours.

"Dear Jacob, please stay away from me. Please. You really scare me. Peter."

There was less laughter and more puzzled silence. Dumbledore did not take heed of this, but slit another envelope open.

"Dear Snivellus, I'm not sorry at all and I'll pour potion all over your abnormally large nose unless you mind your own greasy business. James."

This was met with much laughter, though it was ruined for me by the look McGonagall sent me that told me I had a very rough first period Transfiguration class coming.

"Let's…let's go back to Mr. Remus, then, shall we?" Dumbledore faltered, and he picked up the heaviest looking parchment, swiftly looked it over with raised eyebrows, and began,

"I REFUSE TO WRITE THIS LETTER SINCE I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!! My personal rights are being violated as I am being accused for a crime I did not commit! In fact, according to the 'Statute of Rights for Underage Wizards' Section 3 sub-paragraph C, it plainly states that eyewitnesses are required to—this is supposed to be an _apology,_ Lupin, not a paper on legal rights!"

And a clearly irritated Professor Dumbledore threw the paper down.

The worst part was that I knew what was coming next.

"Right," said Dumbledore, glancing down at the lone letter, clearly relieved. "Right, one more letter to go, I believe from Mr. Potter to Ms. Evans?"

Sirius patted me solemnly on the back as I sank as low as I could go without hiding underneath the table.

"Dear Something Evans, I'm really sorry I don't actually know your first name. I guess I'm sorry I slammed into you and almost killed you, but you did a really crappy thing getting McGonagall. I would have never done that to you. I hope your internal bleeding stops real soon and that your prude-y nature wears off soon, since you're rooming with Amy Finnigan, if you catch my drift.

"James Adonis Ajax Andrew Ambrose Calix Potter."

I don't know what was worse, being slapped by Amy Finnigan as she hurtled out of the Hall, being slapped by Prissy Evans as she stalked out of the Hall, or the shouts of laughter and bellows that followed my five middle names.

Either way I snapped.

"What?" I bellowed, standing on top of the table. "WHAT? Those are family names! My family has been around for over nine hundred years, and you're laughing at ME? Just because _you're _mom named you 'Steven' for a middle name doesn't mean you should be jealous of my name! I bet your common, old English names don't mean '_James Lord of the Earth Manly Immortal Very Handsome Potter'_ like James Adonis Ajax Andrew Ambrose Calix Potter does! ARGH!"

And I gave the plate of toast a terrific kick and leapt back into my seat beside a stunned Sirius and Remus, and an awed Peter.

"Erm," Dumbledore coughed, clearly at a loss of what to say. "Erm. Perhaps we should give you boys a detention polishing the hourglasses instead, yes? It is blaringly obvious that this punishment was not very effective. You may leave now."

And the headmaster himself hurtled towards the door, clearly anxious to leave.

Professor McGonagall was white-faced with fury and seemed at a loss for words. At last she managed, "Transfiguration, boys, and tonight expect to use a lot of elbow grease."

As one, we marched out of the hall, every other student edging sideways away from fuming me, a red-faced Remus, a stunned Peter, and a rather bored Sirius.

"Interesting first week," I mumbled to Sirius, who looked rather abashed.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

**There you go! A nice long chapter to make up for not updating for a while. Hope you enjoyed it, and don't forget to review! **

**Like it? Hate it? Love it? Adore it? Get the point yet? **

**IF ANYONE HAS ANY IDEAS ABOUT FUTURE CHAPTERS, LET ME KNOW! **

**Gracias, **

**Danielle**


	5. What to Do When Your Repsonsible Friend

**Here I am, updating again! School hasn't started yet, but this will probably be my last update for awhile. I'm so glad you guys all like it!**

**Thanks to all my reviewers: KateKarson, PhantomoftheBasket, Random76, izthedoodler, PunkPrincezz017, wHoS rAb, Queen of the Clumsy Dorks, gare de lion –ROAR, Tyem Marodyor, lambgirl1, Cuban Sumbrero Gal, PadfootatHeart, I'm a MUDBLOOD, and OPUNGO! **

**Haha, I'm too tired to write little notes individually, but I hope you like this chapter! The beginning will be different, just a little twist I felt like doing! Enjoy! **

**Let us take a moment to mourn the loss of ProngsxLilyFlower…Right. **

**Disclaimer:**** Every time I shake my magic eight ball and ask it if I own Harry Potter, you know what it says? Outlook is bl-eaaaaa-k. **

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**Chapter 4: What to Do When Your Responsible Friend Goes Missing…psh, party with the house elves!**

As Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I trooped into our first period Transfiguration class, I started to get the feeling that my darling Minerva was mad at me.

"Potter! Take your foolish beetle and transfigure it into a button! What are you doing? Smiling? _Smiling? _Ten points from Gryffindor for smiling! THERE IS NO SMILING IN THIS CLASS!"

But I suppose I'm just awfully paranoid.

McGonagall's frustration continued to grow as Sirius and I transformed every beetle she threw at us into a round, shiny button. After I had transfigured five flawless beetle-buttons, Sirius and I grew bored and began our plan for a secret beetle civilization. We were in the middle of disagreeing whether they should be given spears to hunt with when a maniacal Professor Mcgonagall loomed over us.

"Why are you two not working?" she asked in an oddly-strained happy way. I wonder if she recently overdosed on magic Prozac…

Oh crap. We can't exactly tell our teacher we weren't doing our class work because we were too busy building a secret beetle civilization ruling over all other bugs in a distinct Roman Empire-ish way.

"Well, you see, Professor," Sirius began cheerfully, "James and I accidentally squashed our bugs at the exact same moment and have nothing else to do, so we've been planning a secret beetle civilization in which the beetles rule over all other bugs in a oppressed and morally incorrect and corrupted society, where shows of pure violence are conveyed to the public in thrilling spectacles, and where beetle-generals campaign raging wars for control of the capital, all leading to a thrilling action sequence when Julius the beetle is betrayed by the beetle-Senators, leading to a full scale civil war."

Or maybe you could?

"Well," said Professor McGonagall, looking rather put out by Sirius's answer. "I suppose you've been keeping busy then."

"Professor?" I called tentatively, looking uncertainly at her, "Could we have, er, some more beetles to transfigure, then?"

McGonagall looked like she was having a seizure. How old was she? Dear God, what would happen if I killed my teacher by accident?

McGonagall was now waving her arms around like a maniac. Or a giant windmill. Or a grasshopper with its front legs chopped off rolling helplessly in the dirt…wait, what the hell?

Wait…the crippled grasshopper is speaking to me…shouting actually, but I should probably listen. Why does she keep shouting the letters ADD at me? What does that even mean?

"Oh, yes, Mr. Potter, of course you can have more beetles!" McGonagall screamed at me, reaching for the large bucket of beetles on her desk. She truly has gone mad. She's flinging them in every direction. Those poor, helpless, beetles. They never had a chance. They WOULD have if Sirius had let them have spears. They could paint war symbols on their beetle-y faces and stabbed her to death.

Oh, great. She's yelling those letters at me again. What do they _mean?_

"Yes, Potter, because I just _live_ to serve you and Mr. Black! Why don't I just don an apron and follow you around all day long! You want beetles, James Adonis Ajax Andrew Ambrose Calix Potter, YOU GET THEM YOURSELF!"

And with that she dumped the bucket of beetles all over me.

"Ah! No! Julius!" Sirius shouted, looking stricken. "James, YOU'RE SITTING ON JULIUS THE BEETLE! GET UP!"

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall has seemed to regain herself, and discovering me covered in beetles, immediately removed them from me.

"No! Julius! He's…he's gone," Sirius moaned, curling up into a ball on his chair until an irritated McGonagall flicked him a beetle which she claimed was Julius.

And the class ended in utter confusion.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

_**3 Weeks Later**_

"So do you really love me, Sirius?" Amy asked doe-eyed from the front of the fire place where she sat, looking at Sirius like he was a god.

I think I just might vomit.

"I really believe I may choke on the sour taste in my mouth," Remus announced, looking at the couple in front of the fireplace with obvious horror.

"I can't watch this much longer," Peter moaned into his hands.

"Shh!" I whisper/yell. "You two are the worst spies in the world! They'll hear you!"

"Mate," Remus said reasonably, "We're crouched behind a couch with binoculars. We're not exactly James Bond."

"James Bond?" I say excitedly, "he shares my name! He's a spy, too! We are birds of a feather! I will succeed!"

"Dear, God," Remus sighed, shaking his head, " I promise I'll be nicer if you make him shut up."

"That wasn't very nice," I pouted at Remus, attempting to bat my eyes.

"Dear God," Remus moaned, shaking his head, "We need to get Sirius back. James, you're trying to replace Sirius by attempting to be both of you at the same time. Peter, you're thoroughly depressed and thoroughly sane, which worries me even more. And I'm quite concerned what will happened to the two of you little lambs when I leave for a few days."

"Why are you leaving again?" I asked in frustration. Honestly, he's the worst sidekick ever.

"I told you," Remus said doggedly, "My mom is extremely sick. She's being transferred to St. Mungo's in a few days, where she'll stay for months. I want to say goodbye to her."

"Can't you just write her a letter?" I suggested, watching Sirius smile at Amy in a sickening way.

"That's very insensitive, James," Peter answered reprovingly. "You need to be understanding in his time of need."

"Lord, all mighty," Remus said faintly. "James, you need to make up with Sirius. This stupid fight has gone on far too long."

I glance stealthily over the couch at the fireside couple, and can't help but agree.

Oh! I'm sorry. You really have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? A lot has changed since our first disastrous week at Hogwarts. We've currently been at Hogwarts just under a month, and Sirius and I haven't spoken to each other in a little over a week. I can't even remember what we fought about. It might have been our shower curtains for all I know. It had something to do with spears, beetles, and Professor McGonagall, who was asked to take a few weeks off from teaching for having a slight fit in front of the class.

And Amy and Sirius are going out. Disturbing? Extremely. Strange? Exactly. Sharing a romantic evening in front of the Gryffindor fire? Just plain wrong.

I stood up angrily, prepared to say a thing or two to my so-called best friend. Who does he really think he is? I stalked around the couch, leapt over several poofy stools, clambered over a table or two, stumbled over someone's dam books, and finally, gasping for breath, arrived beside the fire. Sirius and Amy looked up at me in bewilderment.

Slowly, arms crossed across his chest. Sirius stood up, glaring at me beadily.

"You bloody—" I spat, furious.

"I MISS YOU!" Sirius bellowed, interrupting my fiery speech.

"I MISS YOU, TOO!" I howl back, and we embrace quickly, friends once more.

"Oh, Siri!" Amy cried, flinging his arms around his neck. "I'm so happy you and Jamie are friends again!"

Sirius looked at her as though just remembering she was there.

"Oh, yeah, Amy love," he began slowly, "I kinda want to break up. It just wasn't working between us. It's not you! It's not me! I just thought that James liked you, so to make him mad I went out with you. Don't- what are you doing, you crazy woman? Put that lamp down! Blame him! Blame himmmmmm!"

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"Well," I said thickly from the gauze around my head, "I suppose this a good enough Marauders sleepover."

"I couldn't agree more," Sirius said weakly from the bed next to me, arm currently in a sling and covered in bruises from being beaten with a lampshade.

Remus and Peter stood over us, shaking their heads. Peter looked cheerful, but Remus looked pale and tired. I bet he's worried about his mom.

"Amy Finnigan kicked our bloody arses," Sirius sighed, shaking his head as he propped himself up, looking rather put out.

"That's what you get for going out with somebody for revenge," Remus retorted, looking annoyed.

"She'll forgive you eventually," I tell the ceiling, wincing at the pounding in my head. "But I never knew she could launch a lamp twenty feet in the air and still hit her target."

"You two are ridiculous," Remus sighed, shaking his head. "Stay out of trouble when I'm gone. We don't need James to get stuck in the Ravenclaw hourglass or for Peter to get stuck in cement after Sirius's attempts at fixing that freakish clock."

"I'm telling you," Sirius whined, rubbing his temples, "That I didn't mean to end up in Costa Rica playing cards. I thought I'd killed Peter after he fell off that ladder, so I decided to lay low."

"By running away to Costa Rica?" Remus snapped.

"It seemed sensible at the time," Sirius retorted defiantly.

Remus ran a hand through his hair.

"You're all doomed."

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"I cannot BELIEVE you, James! You've been holding out on me!"

"Shhh! Don't wake anyone up, Sirius!"

"An invisibility cloak? An invisibility CLOAK? How could you not tell me!"

"I really just didn't feel like it, I suppose. Now get under. Pete, make sure your feet aren't sticking out. My dad told me about this secret passage into the kitchens."

"Is this why we're doing this while Remus isn't here?"

"Exactly. He still hasn't forgotten the clock incident when he was left hanging from the second hand on the clock for over two hours while you gambled in South America."

"Dammit, will you people _ever_ stop brining that up?"

"Probably the next time you do something stupid, so yeah. You ready?"

"I suppose," Sirius sighed dramatically, and we began to creep down the boys' staircase and into the common room. We were in luck. Only Tinsley and Tom were there, but they were making out madly, so we were in no real danger. I pushed open the portrait, and we began our journey through Hogwarts at night.

It was pretty messy, especially when Pete tripped over the cloak hem and sent us careening down a staircase full of lethal-looking suits of armor, and when Sirius decided it would be 'funny' to start singing a ballad of love to Peeves, who predictably began to pelt us with every possible object he could find. But eventually we reached a portrait of a giant bowl of fruit.

"Okay, Pete," I instructed, clutching the stitch in my side. "Just tickle that pear."

"Tickle a pear?" he asked quizzically.

"James," Sirius began melodramatically, "Why did you drag us through this entire god-forsaken castle just so Peter could molest a portrait?"

Peter blushed and used a few choice words that I can proudly claim to have taught him.

"Sirius," I sighed, shaking my messy head, "If you wanted to molest a pear at night, why didn't you just ask?"

"I didn't think you'd let me," Sirius pouted, before stepping forward to tickle the painting.

The painting swung open, and we stepped into a hall roughly the size of the Great Hall above, filled with a sea of house elves.

"Hello, sirs," one of the poor fellows began, "What can we do for you today?"

"We would like you to party with us," Sirius began imperiously, scratching his nose in a kingly way.

Er, what?

The house elf looked taken aback.

"Party?" he squeaked, looking quite confused, "You sirs would like to part with us?"

"Yep," Sirius beamed, unfazed. "You know, ice a few butter beers, kick back and relax."

I so should not have brought him here.

The house elves looked so confused I, being the kind, great me, took pity on them.

"You could make the food for the party, if you want," I said hopefully. No way am I strapping on an apron and baking soufflé.

The house elf looked delighted.

"Of course dear sirs, we would love to! And then we can," he looked uncertainly at Sirius, "Ice a few butter beers with the masters! What fun!"

"Jolly good," Sirius began jovially, before plopping down onto the ground beside me.

"You're insane," I said ruefully, sinking to the ground beside him while house elves bustle about, watching Peter dig through the nearby fridge enthusiastically, searching for butter beer.

Sirius looked mortally offended.

"Insaneness is in the eye of the beholder, James."

Before I could reply to his Mad Hatter philosophy, Peter ran over, waving a large, empty bottle of firewhisky at us.

"Guess what I just did, guys?" Peter began excitedly, looking pleased with himself, "I spiked the bowl of butter beer the elves are bringing out!"

Peter had turned to the dark side.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"I'm a sailor pig, and I lost my leg! Climbing up the topsails, I lost my leg!" I bellowed in time to the music, spinning in circles on top of the nearest table with a pretty house elf, the DropKick Murphys blaring around the magical kitchen.

It was a scene typical of any frat house party. Drunken elves lay snoring all over the floor like a carpet. The remaining leapt upon tables and were grinding or doing some sort of ridiculous dance. Sirius was doing the Crypt walk across a long table. An intense dance-off was taking up most of another. One of the elves pulled out the surprise move of the funky chicken.

Peter was downing shot for shot across from a hard-faced elf, face ruddy. Ah, marvelous Petey. Without him, this drunken fiesta would not have occurred. A scuffle broke out nearby, and I jumped hazardly off my table and pushed through the crowd until I was on the same table as Sirius.

"We're shipping up to Boston, whoah-oh-oh!" I howled, grabbing Sirius's arm and spinning round and round with him until we both feel the urge to throw up.

"Why are you singing that song?" Sirius shouted at me, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"What song?" I said in a slurred way. Sirius shrugged and began to do the worm across the table again.

"Another round of drinks, sir?" a house elf squeaked at my elbow.

"Sure," I grinned stupidly, and taking the tray of shots, downed them all.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"Ugh," Sirius groaned nearby. My head pounded viciously. Where am I?

"My head," I moaned, clutching my aching skull. Obviously some angry beavers are drilling into my head. It is the only possible explanation for the pain.

I opened my eyes blearily.

"Someone shut off the light!" I howled, retreating behind my eyelids again.

"James? Is that you?" Sirius responded groggily from somewhere close.

"Sirius!" I moaned, rubbing my head, "Don't talk so loudly. You're hurting my ears."

Slowly, I opened my eyes and forced myself to sit up. Why am I so cold?

"That's because you're not wearing any pants," a loud voice that shook my head replied.

"How can you hear what I'm thinking?" I bellowed into the silence, still unable to fully open my eyes.

"You said it out loud, you idiot," Sirius groaned, obviously in as much pain as me.

I sank back down against my comfortable, warm pillow that is snoring loudly. I can always find my pants later.

What the hell? My pillow is snoring! Where AM I?

I sat up in blind panic, and wrenched my eyes open.

I was snuggled against many house elves, all still passed out. We were all packed onto a long table in what looked like a massive kitchen. How did I get here? And why was the DropKick Murphys stuck in my head?

I turned around, looking half-heartedly for Sirius. He was curled up some twenty feet away, a silver pot on his head, smothered under a pile of elves. He was clutching a spatula and seemed to be muttering.

My head was in agony, but I forced myself to take in my surroundings. Where were all my clothes? Why was I only in a pair of boxers?

Blurry memories of taking off my clothes and running in my underwear through a crowd of dancing house elves swam up. God, that's embarrassing. But why was I even here in the first place?

It looked to be about ten o'clock in the morning. Dread filled me. The house elves weren't cooking breakfast, which would be happening right about now, which meant people would certainly come to find out why. I imagined Professor McGonagall finding me surrounded my hung over elves in my underwear.

Wait. Someone else was here, too.

"Peter?" I called groggily into the silent kitchen, tottering to my feet in search of my clothes. Oooh! My socks! I found my socks! I pulled them on and searched eagerly for more clothes.

"Peter?" I called again, wading through piles of house elves in search of my shirt, having just found my pants covered in elf puke, which I put on anyway.

"James?" came an echo from nearby, muffled, but audible. I headed towards another table, finding a familiar looking sneaker on the way and pulling it on as well.

"James! Help me!"

I spun around on the spot, searching for the area of the voice, and my head gave another lurch. There! I dropped to my knees on an empty space of floor, prepared to dig out Peter.

"OW! OW!"

THE GROUND WAS TALKING TO ME!

Peter materialized at my feet, pulling my invisibility cloak off. I snatched it up, relieved to have found it, and glance at Peter. He, too, was in much agony, but had all of his clothes on and no pots or pans on his head.

"Where are your clothes?" Peter asked blearily, squinting at my bare chest.

"I'm looking for them right now. Go wake Sirius up. We have to get out of here. It's breakfast time, the elves aren't cooking, and that means teachers are going to come to investigate."

Peter stumbled off, half drunk and laughing at odd moments. I found my t-shirt tied like a toga around a nearby house elf and shoved it on, reminding myself to burn it later. God, my head KILLS. What HAPPENED to me?

I tugged my sneaker out of a sleeping house elf's grip, and searched blindly for my robe. I heard a lot of groaning from nearby and had a feeling Sirius was refusing to wake up. The house elves will be knocked out for hours.

I clambered back onto the table on which I woke up and headed towards a lump I supposed to be Sirius.

"Sirius, wake up," I moaned, shaking the lump roughly. "We need to leave."

No response.

"Sirius! SIRIUS!"

"What?"

I looked down at the mop I had been throttling and two tables over at Sirius.

"Never mind."

Hey! The mop had my hat on! I snatched it off and headed towards the real Sirius.

"Here you go, James," Sirius said blearily, handing me my puke-covered robes.

"Where'd you get them?" I asked, rubbing my throbbing skull.

"You were stripping down on top of that table and threw them into the crowd," Sirius muttered, slowly sitting up.

I could probably die right now.

"Come on, Sirius," Peter said gently, pulling him up. "Teachers are going to come soon and see why the elves aren't cooking breakfast. We need to get out of here."

Together, Peter and I dragged Sirius to the door. I looked back at all of the passed out elves snoring loudly.

"Do you think they'll remember anything?" I asked worriedly.

Peter shook his head, which was difficult with Sirius snoring on your shoulder.

"I doubt it. They're so hammered they'll have headaches for weeks. The most they'll have is recollections of strange things, like you stripping to 'Don't Cha.' We'll just avoid here for a few weeks."

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I clambered into my warm bed after heaving Sirius on his own. Peter was already snoring.

Ah, peace.

"POTTER!"

Can't they ever yell BLACK! Or PETTIGREW?

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

_**IF ANYONE HAS ANY IDEAS ABOUT FUTURE CHAPTERS, LET ME KNOW!**_

_Ha. I worked so hard on that and it is now 2: 11 A.M. I fully expect reviews from all of you. LOL_

_**Like it? Hate it? Love it? Adore it? Get the point yet?**_

_**Danielle**_


	6. What to Do When: The Morning After

UPDATED!!!!! 

For all those who had to wait a freakishly long time, I apologize. Who knew that prep school could be even more confusing this year than last?! I wish I could have updated sooner, but a field hockey team, two ice hockey teams, two soccer teams, lacrosse, and homework kept me rather occupied. I PROMISE to update sooner! And I hope I didn't lose any loyal readers/reviewer people because of my longness…

**Thanks to all my reviewers**: _blobbyblobbyblobbyi, the ever loyal __**Tyem Marodyor,**__ PunkPrincezz017, ThePurpleRose, xoxPotter'sGirlxox, the loyal __**gare de lyon – ROAR**__, Vintage Photographs, the die-hard __**IAMaMUDBLOOD,**__ the steadfast __**opungo, lambgirl1**__ (another for-lifer- did you change your name to __**Rukea**__????), padfoot-girl111, JustAnother CrazyWriter, Angel-of-vampires, TheOriginalHufflepuff, just.like.jess, KuroNekoSama1990, ClumsyElf, Kinelea, Crayon-Lover, Tegildess, books4evah, IluvvRemus, katekarson, _

**PhantomoftheBasket:** you get special mention because your reviews always make me laugh. Sorry for the wait!

And **bbmoose:** James WILL eventually love Evans, but come on, it's fun to have her annoying when she's young!

Disclaimer: We all just wanna be big rockstars living in hilltop mansions with fifteen cars. Not multi-million dollar authors. 

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Chapter 4 and a 1/2: The Morning After 

"POTTER!"

There goes that freakishly annoying voice again. God, my head burns.

"POTTER!!!!!!"

Who is the deranged human being attempting to break our door in half? I swear, they couldn't bang on the solid oak any louder. Sirius groaned horribly across the room.

"POTTERRRRRRR!!!!!"

Damn. I recognized the voice. Hopefully she won't be able to get in…

With a loud shriek and a bang, the dormitory door burst open, revealing a crazed Evans. Peter swore. Sirius flipped her the bird. I shoved my head as far as it could go under my nineteen goose feather pillows. Maybe if she thinks I'm asleep she'll go away.

"Potter? Potter! POTTER!"

Would she please stop poking me? It's not helping my hangover very much.

"POTTER!!!!!!"

God, why is my whole bed bouncing and shaking? Oh right. Prissy Evans is jumping up and down on it and throwing chocolate frogs at me.

Something tells me she isn't the type to tip toe around when someone's asleep…

I should probably get up before she finds a nearby Beater Bat and starts smacking me with it.

I groaned realistically and punched blindly at the area where the shrieking noise of dying parrots seems to be coming from.

I am rewarded with a lot of smacks and fingernails in my skull.

"What do you WANT?" I bellowed, sitting up straight in bed, hence sending Evans flying off the side. She yowls and spits like a cat on the floor, and for one insane instant I thought she was going to transfigure into a cat and attack me. But then she stood up huffily, collected her many chocolate frogs, and glared at me.

I really don't need this right now. My head lurched unexpectedly, and the entire room spun nauseously.

"What do you want?" I croaked, rubbing my temples and glaring at her through blurry eyes.

Evans eyed me in disgust.

"Your Charms' notes," she proclaimed, proceeding to poke around at the items littered around the floor of my bed. She held up my puke-covered trousers. "What is on your trousers?"

"Elf vomit," Sirius called sleepily from the other side of the room.

Oh, Sirius. Please shut up.

I snatched the pants out of her hands and tossed them out the open window next to my bed.

"What trousers?" I giggled hysterically, shoving off my covers to reveal my puke-covered shirt.

Evans stared at me like I was stupid. But really, can you blame her?

I rummaged under my beds, discovered the parchment in question, threw the notes at Evans, and climbed back into bed.

Ah, peace.

"Potter? Potter! POTTER!"

I fear I might cry.

I rolled over to glare beadily at Evans through slitted eyes.

"WHAT?"

Evans looked affronted.

"Aren't you going to get up?" she asked curiously, sitting down at the edge of my bed.

I rolled my eyes and buried my head deeper into the pillows.

"It's the weekend, Evans," I answered, my voice muffled.

"It's Thursday, Potter."

"Exactly. It's the weekend."

Evans sighed exasperatedly. Oh, God. I think I felt her finger twitch. Yes, I'm certain of it. Is she about to pelt me with chocolate again? I fear I won't survive.

"You're going to get in trouble, Potter."

"Fine. I'm sick."

"You're sick?"

"Sick. Deathly, frightfully, sick."

"What are your symptoms?"

Am I on Jeopardy or something? I refuse to answer her. Maybe then she'll leave…

"Potter? Potter! POTTER!"

God dammit.

"My head aches, my stomach aches, I feel like puking, I have whooping cough, pneumonia, AIDS, a fever, kidney cancer, an enlarged spleen, Botox, a nose job, Athlete's foot, jaundice, a rare type of Triple E, Triple A, male pattern baldness, butterflies, magical warts, a futuristic virus, the Black Death, the Plague, rabies, anything!" I snapped, flopping onto my stomach to avoid Prissy's piercing gaze.

"Oh." She sounded rather annoyed.

Annoyed.

ANNOYED!

When she's the deranged being chucking chocolate frogs and waking honest people up on the weekend!

The nerve.

"Well," Evans continued, trying to find some way to get me out of bed, "What do Peter and Sirius have?"

"I'm sick," Peter muttered from across the room.

A silence occurred until Sirius grunted, "Yeah, me too."

"All three of you are sick?"

"Yep."

"Uhuh."

….

….

….

"…Huh? What? Oh, yeah, me too."

I wish I chucked my puke-covered pants at Sirius.

They could have been so much more useful. I wonder if I should run and go get them. God, Evans talks a lot. She keeps looking at me like she wants an answer. The only problem is, what was the question?

I settle for the next best answer.

"Whuh?"

"What?"

"Who?"

"When?"

"Where?"

"Why?"

"How?"

"Wow."

"Woof."

Evans screamed in frustration at my diversionary tactics. Man, I'm good at this.

"Well, that still doesn't explain how all three of you got sick!" She rages, going on and on about the Black Death and futuristic plagues. She'll never leave.

"OY!"

Every head in the room gets whiplash from turning to stare at Sirius's bed.

"GET THE BLOODY HELL OUT, YOU MADWOMAN! Don't you get we're contagious? You're exposing yourself to male pattern baldness and prostate cancer! NOW GET OUT!"

With a few more choice words, Evans scuttled out of the door.

Ah, silence.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I dreamed I was on a giant frog's back, carrying me across a river of lava. I smiled. This was good. I deserved this. But suddenly the frog began to eat pancakes while Prissy Evans flushed the lava down the toilet, and began to dance the conga with my mum and Bird, while Sirius and Peter, both giant narwhales, played tennis with a dead fish and Professor McGonagall zoomed around on a flying iceberg…

"James? James! Wake up!"

Dear God. Please make everyone go away. Just let me sleep.

Ugh. A toilet just flushed about four times in a row and it smells like maple syrup in here. Where is here? An iceberg?

I rolled over and stared up into the demonic face of Peter. Groaning, I clambered out of bed, stomped on Peter's toes, and looked around the dormitory. The sun is starting to set. God, how long was I out cold?

Sirius came strutting out of the bathroom. He grinned at me blearily.

"Evans came through for us!'

Whuh?

"Whuh?"

"She told the older girls we were all sick, and they made pancakes!" Sirius was positively bouncing with excitement.

Ugh.

"Where are mine?" I asked, struggling to find my socks.

"In the bathroom," Sirius answered cheerfully.

I stared up at him for a good two minutes. He stared down at me for a good two minutes, humming ecstatically.

He's driving me insane.

God, could he stop humming 'Yellow Submarine' for just a half-second?

…Argh.

"What do you mean, 'they're in the bathroom?'" I asked in frustration.

Peter spoke up.

"He ate them," he said sourly, glaring at Sirius.

Evil, thy name is Sirius.

"You…you…ATE my pancakes?" I spluttered, hardly containing my rage.

Sirius still looks obnoxiously happy.

"Yep."

"All…ALL of them?"

"Mhm."

"But…why?"

Sirius shrugs nonchalantly and skips toward his bed.

I need a candelabrum.

Or a heavy object that will make whatever brains Sirius possess go all over the floor.

I attempted to pry an axe from the nearest suit of armor, but they super-glued it there.

Suddenly, a loud pecking filled the room.

Revenge!

I raced towards the nearest window, and threw it open.

Bird careened inward, dropped a thick letter on my head, and proceeded to attack Sirius.

Viciously, I might add.

Peter shouted and ran forward, a look of unimaginable pleasure on his face as he watched his best friend get mauled by an angry owl.

'Tis the season, right?

Chuckling, I leaned over and picked up the envelope on the floor. A groan of dread fills the deathly silent room apart from Peter's maniacal laughter and Sirius's shrieks for help.

Mr. James A.A.A.A.C. Potter 

_The Bed Next to Sirius_

_Gryffindor Tower_

_Hogwarts_

Mum.

I quickly ripped open the envelope with my teeth, spit out the parchment, and began to read.

Ugh.

The. NERVE!

_Darling James-_

_I write this to you from our newly designed green room. Twinky and the rest of the elves really came through. They worked all night to get the glass in place…. _

Ugh. Mum. She's not happy unless she's redesigning the entire mansion at least once a month. Those poor house elves. Perhaps a party is in order for Christmas Break…

_…Your father cannot even express how happy he is that his little boy's a Gryffindor. I, of course, was rooting for another Ravenclaw, but what's done is done. Your grandmother sends her love and a hundred Galleons… _

_…Now, how is life at Hogwarts, young man? I trust you have found a certain lady to entertain yourself with. We met the most adorable couple and their child at the Express. The Evans! Their daughter was quite beautiful, and I'm sure you think it, too…_

Ew.

Ew.

EW!

Evans? Come on, Mum. Evans? Prissy, know-it-all, EVANS? You want me to like her? I mean, sure, she's not disgusting when she's not covered in bruises and when she brushes her hair, but come on, the girl drives me insane.

She throws heavy objects at me and gets me detentions.

As if.

_…We had Mrs. Lupin over for tea the other night. Such an admirable woman. Perhaps you made a mistake, darling? She's quite healthy, and certainly not in St. Mungo's…_

Wait.

Then what the hell is Remus gone for?

If his mum is totally healthy and able to deal with my deranged parents, she obviously doesn't need over night visits to St. Mungo's.

God, what is that terrible ripping, crackling noise?

Oh, right.

Bird has his talons out and Sirius has no shirt on.

_…How is dear Sirius? His mother was not too pleased when she found out he was in Gryffindor. Her face turned green and she attempted to strangle Kreacher, or Teacher, or whatever that beast's name is. Her husband played it off as a popped blood vessel, but I know better. I'd tell Sirius to be careful. I'm certain they have an elaborate plan with Bella to shove him down a staircase. Oh, darling Bella. Have you ever met a sweeter child? _

Yeah. Bella's REAL sweet.

_…I trust you are studying hard, and not engaging in any illegal activities, such as partying or drinking. Tell all your friends they are invited back to ours for Christmas, and do invite that little Evans girl. Such a cute child…_

My mother has lost it.

Like, seriously lost it.

Couldn't she see how evil Evans is?

Her hair is red, for crying out loud! You know why it's red?

Because she's a DEMON! It makes perfect sense. Red hair, fire, hell, anger.

It just _goes._ Do I need to invite a demon to my house for Christmas?

That's just unholy!

_Always,_

_Mum_

_P.S. Bird is in a very bad mood today. Do keep him away from Sirius. _

After much contemplation, and laughing, I finally rescued Sirius from Bird. The crazed animal literally scratched off half his skin while Peter watched in hysterics.

Note to self: Look out for Peter…

A disgruntle Sirius and laughing Peter then read my mother's letter.

Peter then stopped laughing.

"So, Remus's mum isn't even sick?" Sirius asked doubtfully, after checking the staircase eleven times to make sure Bella wasn't waiting to send him headfirst down the stairs.

"I guess not," I answered, trying to work out the aches in my head. Is it possible for a hangover to come back?

"Then why'd he randomly leave?" Peter asked, staring at my mother's neat writing in confusion.

Sirius looked annoyed.

I felt annoyed.

"Evans?" I cried out in anger, kicking my bed. "_Evans?_ My mom wants her to come home with us for the holidays! She'll kill me with an axe in my sleep! She'll…she'll…she'll poison the Christmas stew!"

"Not the stew!" Sirius yelled passionately.

I nodded vigorously.

"Aye! The stew! The holy stew that God gave us to eat and be merry on Christmas Day! And she'd kill us all, with use of toxic carrots and beefy broth!"

Sirius looked horrified.

"What…what about the cookies? The snowballs, ginger snaps, ginger bread men, all lined up on that big table?"

"Yes," I agreed, nodding. "The cookies."

"And…and the pies? Apple, and peach, and cranberry? What about the cakes? The chocolate fondue? And the frosted lattes filled with coffee and cream and sugar? What about them?"

My mouth began to water.

"Do you remember the bowl of whip cream from last year? And you'd just dip your spoon in, and eat it? What about the bowl of hot fudge, the roasted turkey and potatoes and gravy and shrimp? Would she poison them too, James?"

Peter, Sirius, and I looked at each other.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"This is the worst Chinese food I've ever eaten," Sirius complained, attempting to dissect his teriyaki meat.

"At least your isn't frozen," I answered gloomily, poking with a fork at a piece of Hawaiian pizza. I can see the box kicked under the table not even two feet away.

Did they even try and HEAT it?

Peter's was the worst.

It looked like a giant meatball.

It was probably some type of chicken.

We watched it fearfully; frightened it would leap off the plate and attempt to eat our eyeballs.

Every person in the Great Hall looked furious.

Apparently the house elves weren't cooking yet, and no potion or draught had woken them up yet.

Oh, the irony.

Sirius threw down his cold Chinese food with a smack and stood up. I followed suit, drooping my frozen pizza. Peter stood up slowly, and his meatball made an odd squealing noise that made us all stare at it for a little bit.

But then we saw it.

Well, Sirius saw it and got all freaked out.

Which made us all hysterical.

A creepy, skinny cat.

Watching us.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

_Ah! So that's basically my first chapter back after two months of not writing! How'd I do? _

Like it? Love it? Hate it? Adore it? Get the point yet?

_So you all know where this next chappie is going: _

_**WTDW A Freakish Cat Follows You Around. **_

_If anyone has suggestions about future chapters, LET ME KNOW! _

-danielle ♣♠♥♪


	7. WHat to Do When A Freakish Cat Follows

Heck yes. I updated.

**ATTENTION!!!!**

I have decided to totally reorganize this story. Don't worry, I AM NOT ABANDONING IT. I adore this story. But it does mean I need feed back from reviewers, whose opinions I take seriously.

I have decided that for the seven years at Hogwarts, there will be 25 chapters for each of the years, and one special edition. Reviewers! Is this okay? This also means your ideas for chapters are treasured. I have them all in a document on my Mac, and I will reorganize them. If your ideas don't appear quickly, it doesn't mean I'm not using them. It means I'm writing other ones first. _But is this okay?_

I write long chapters, which means it takes me a while. The beginning chapters are long because I'm frantically trying to introduce everything. Would you be okay if I wrote smaller (but still freakishly long) chapters to enable faster updates?

Okay! The Long awaited cat chapter! Muahahahahaha. Enjoy! I have a nice action sequence in there that I'm quite proud of.

**Thanks to all my reviewers:** kiki08, TheOriginalHufflepuff, The Queen of Confusion, Vampire Scooby, books4evah, IAMaMUDBLOOD, hpottersgirl, IluvvRemus, Angel-of-Vampires, gare de lyon (argh I'm so jealous you're already on break!), Crayon Lover: woah, I'm definitely using those, haha, and

**Anonymous Jane**: I accept your challenge, and you'll find them all in this chapter! Thanks for the feedback.

**PhantomoftheBasket: **what are paydays? Candy?

**Gare de Lyon**: You're so lucky! Have fun on vacation!

**Crayon Lover:** Woah, you had some wicked good ideas, and I'm definitely using some of those. Thanks!

**Tyem Marodyor**: Haha, I wish I had Bird, too. He's the nastiest bird ever, and I modeled the dinner after nights without my mom cooking, LOL. I love all of your squid ideas, I'm getting so many of those! I might just have like 5 chapters devoted to squid related accidents! And I'm going to write that history class one real soon. Love it.

**I must admit, I love when people tell me their favorite quotes : )**

**Disclaimer: **Merry Boxing Day! Please don't sue.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Chapter 5: What to Do When a Freakish Cat Follows You Around 

As I sat crouched behind a bench with Sirius and Peter, armed with heavy spatulas and a squealing meatball, I tried to figure out why we were so afraid of a cat. But there it was, giant yellow orbs glaring at us, its freakishly skeletal frame slinking in the shadows.

"What does it want?" Peter asked in a hushed voice, clutching his muttering, murderous meatball to his chest.

"I'm not sure," I answered uneasily, watching the cat watch us watch it. A nearby tumbleweed conveniently tumbled through the hall.

Sirius shuddered violently.

"I hate cats," he moaned, the spork he was clutching trembling in his hand. "Make it go away."

And he curled up into a defense position on the ground.

Or was it the crash position for an airplane?

What is an airplane, anyway?

"Wait a minute!" Peter cried brilliantly, leaping to his feet.

Sirius and I stared him down, sporks pointed directly at his heart.

Peter sank back to the ground, embarrassed.

"I speak cat," he began conversationally, eyeing the skinny cat. "I could ask it to leave and tell it it's not welcome."

I turned to share an incredulous look with Sirius, but he was glaring at Peter.

"Traitor!" Sirius spat, furious. "I speak dog!"

Am I the only one that speaks HUMAN?

Peter looked determined though, and he crawled onto a bench, making furious eye contact with the cat.

"Don't. Make. Eye. Contact. You. Idiot." Sirius breathed beside me.

"Meow! Meow-er-meow-ma-owsh-prrrrrrrr?" Peter said rather sensually, pawing at his hair.

I am so glad no one else is in the hall right now.

Oh wait. There's McGonagall. I'd wave but she'd probably have a heart attack.

"Mate, are you hitting on it or are you telling it to leave?" Sirius growled, "Because frankly, you sound like a 1-800- call me for cats!"

I stared at him like he was psychotic.

"What?" Sirius began defensively, staring into his pockets. "You've never called one before?"

Before I could reply, the freakish cat replied.

"Mow! Meow, mi-mew-meowwww-ma-mut-pr-meow-prrrrrrrr!"

"What'd it say, Pete?" I whispered, tugging on his sleeve.

This didn't work out very well, unfortunately, and Peter toppled sideways off the bench.

"It said," Peter began in disbelief, rubbing his bruised head, "Don't talk to me, you stupid freak, or I will cut your tongue out!"

Silence.

"Well," Sirius croaked, rubbing his hands together, "That settles it, cats are evil, let's just get a nice long stick and beat it with it. Oh! Minnie's back! Minnieeeeeee!"

And Sirius stood up and began waving frantically to McGonagall.

McGonagall ducked behind Dumbledore's chair, clearly terrified.

"I can't hear you!" she shouted back, taking the defensive airplane position.

"Hm." Sirius shrugged, bewildered, then turned towards the cat. "Maybe it will run away, too."

And Sirius waved frantically at the cat.

What happened next was very odd.

The cat raised one paw, flicked all of its nails out, and folded them all down, save one.

The middle one.

Yes, my friends, we got flipped off by a cat.

Sirius jaw dropped in shock and outrage. And fear.

"Demon cat!" he bellowed, and grabbing Peter's meatball, he chucked it at the freakish cat.

It hissed loudly, plainly furious.

"It's very angry at you, Sirius," Peter translated, as his meatball began to scream insults.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"No kidding, Peter," Sirius gulped, and he chucked an anime book at Peter.

Where he got said book, we may never know.

The cat was slowly approaching, tail flicking viciously.

"Oh no," I began, dread filling my face.

"HOW DARE YOU THROW ME! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?"

"What do we do?" Sirius said hysterically, panicking.

"I don't know!" Peter yelled, terror on his face.

"I AM THOMPSON, LORD OF THE MEATBALLS! I DO NOT FORGET PEOPLE LIKE YOU!"

It is around now, that I thought of the most obvious thing to do.

Well, the second most obvious. The first would have been to ask Minnie to transform into a cat and fight the freakish cat in a street fight, which would be hosted by the one and only James Potter and Sirius Black duo, while teachers and students took bets and gave money to the bookie, Peter Pettigrew. In the end, Minnie would win, the cat would be dead, and we could go to bed and dream of tomorrow's adventures.

"RUN!" I bellowed, and after several seconds of confusion, we ran for it.

"Merry Hanukah!" McGonagall shouted hysterically from behind the chair. "Be safe! Don't drink and fly!"

Dear, dear.

Another mental breakdown.

"I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU ALL!" Lord Thompson of the Meatballs screamed.

But we had already learned to push this disturbing and scarring food pyramid emperor out of our minds.

But I swear to Merlin, if I wake up and I have an army of meatballs ready for battle standing over me, that is when I break out the spork and start an eating frenzy.

Ahem.

We careened out of the Great Hall, the demon cat hot on our heels. We tumbled down slippery, glassy halls, stampeded up staircases we had no recollection of being there before, and even did a daring pole vault over the old caretaker with the lazy eye and fondness for iron manacles.

Which is a nice hobby, but I personally prefer chocolate frog cards.

Finally, the Fat Lady portrait was in site.

Sirius pulled ahead of Peter and I and slammed full force into the Fat Lady, who was once again snoozing in her frame.

She squawked loudly and attempted to beat Sirius with her purse.

Which is rather stupid, seeing as it's two dimensional and trapped in a portrait.

I wonder if pepper spray would work…

"Rape! Rape!" the Fat Lady bellowed, making a courageous show of beating Sirius with her imaginary purse. "Sirius Black is attacking me!"

"Just let me in you tub of lard!" Sirius snapped, scratching at the golden frame.

"Tub of lard!" the Fat Lady shrieked. "You're no walk in the park either, boy! Did you even brush your hair this morning?"

"JUST LET ME IN!" Sirius hollowed, furious. "A demon cat is following me because I threw Lord Thompson of the Meatballs at it and it flipped me off and if I die in this godforsaken hallway smelling of cat pee, I'm not going to be very happy!"

The Fat Lady dropped her purse and stared at Sirius like he was unstable.

Of course, this happens very often to Sirius, so he didn't even notice.

"Um, Sirius?" Peter began squeakily, clearly frightened.

"WHAT?" Sirius bellowed, looking for all the world like a vicious dog.

"Um, you could just tell her the password, you know," Peter stuttered out.

"Oh," Sirius mulled this over carefully for several moments, staring at Peter in thought.

"You're a smart one, Peter," Sirius said happily, turning to face the Fat Lady. "Humperdink."

"Well!" the Fat Lady snapped huffily, straightening her skirt. An Atkins diet plan fell out of one of the folds, and she glared at me beadily.

"You saw nothing!" she barked, and she swung open to let us into the common room.

We clambered gratefully inside, relief making us giddy.

"Meowwwwww."

For one horrifying moment, I stood stock still, not sure if it was Amy Finnegan hitting on us, echoes coming down from Tom and Tinsley's room, or the freakish cat.

I then stood stock still for another few moments, trying to figure out which one is more horrifying to think about.

But no. It was the freakish cat.

"AHHHHHHH!"

We positively bolted for the staircase to our dorm.

I thundered ahead in the lead, Sirius hot on my heels, attempting to pull me down and sacrifice me to the demon cat, while Peter ran like the wind.

Or as fast as the wind can go when it's a chubby, clumsy eleven-year old.

I cannon balled into the dorm, swinging around the door like a ninja, slamming it shut just as Peter finally careened in, out of breath and exhausted.

I locked the deadbolt in place, and beckoned Sirius and Peter over.

Silently, we all pressed our ears against the door: me at the top, Sirius in the middle, and Peter crouching awkwardly on the ground.

No sound, until…

A loud hiss and scratching noise slammed into the door, sending the three of us flying.

"Nowhere is safe!" Sirius bellowed, terrified. "It's now or never, boys! Get ready to defend yourselves!"

I'm not quite sure what happened next, but all of our belongings-our beds, our drawers, our nightstands- all got piled against the door, blocking it shut.

The room was surprisingly bare, and at Sirius's insistence, we sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, facing in different directions, keeping watch.

Until we noticed the vent hanging innocently out of the ceiling.

"Oh, crap," I muttered, shooting a terrified look at Sirius's purple face.

"James," Sirius said in a strangled manner, "Do you have an illegal, contraband broomstick, that could get you expelled?"

"Of course."

What a stupid question.

"Good. Me too. I want you to go over to my case, bring me my broomstick, and we'll make our final stand."

Oh. My. God.

"Um, what are you implying, Sirius?"

He was eerily calm. "If we can't get it to stop following us, we have to make a stand. It's not like anyone will miss it, Potter."

"Okayyyyyyy," I stood up slowly and backed away from the chemically imbalanced Sirius, wishing more than ever Remus was here to save us.

And the freakish cat.

The moon was beginning to rise, and by the light I ambled over to Sirius's suitcase. I ripped through layers of random clothes, searching for his broomstick until…

Merlin, there are a lot of until's in this chapter.

Maybe if Sirius stopped acting like a SPAZZ we wouldn't have as many.

I held it up to the light, dumbfounded, and turned to stare at Sirius.

It was a plastic action figure of John Lennon, sunglasses on, guitar placed carefully in his hands. It was so gloriously painted and cared for, despite its vintage qualities.

I stared at Sirius in a mixture of amusement and embarrassment.

Without a word, he stomped across the room and chucked it out the usual window.

Curiosity overtook me, and I crossed to the window. We've been here about two months, and how many things have we chucked out this window by now?

A Vogue magazine, a pair of trousers, the action figure, and several fireworks.

Well then.

I turned back to face my mysteriously strange best friend and Peter, but a most unusual site met my eyes.

_Peter was reading. _

My jaw dropped in shock. The world has gone wrong! Peter does not read for fun!

Sirius and I stared in horror at the oblivious Peter for a good five minutes, and he finally noticed our stares.

"What?" he said sheepishly, blushing. "I like "Full Metal Panic" anime books."

Eh?

"Eh?"

"Aren't you the least bit curious what happens to Sousuke Sagara and Kaname Chidori?" Peter demanded, clutching the book to his chest. I finally realized it was the anime book Sirius whipped out of nowhere and chucked at him.

We didn't know he was going to enjoy it.

"Not really, no," Sirius answered conversationally, and Peter dutifully handed him the comic book to chuck out the window.

Now, more awkward moments would have passed much this way, but a clanging, metallic sound echoed overhead.

I froze, white-knuckling the window frame, Peter still curled up on the floor and Sirius halfway in between.

For several long moments, we made no movement, just stood there listening to the demon cat clambering through the ventilation system to kill us.

I, as always, broke the silence.

"Sirius," I whispered through gritted teeth, "Get me my broom, right now."

"Where are we gonna go?" Peter panted frantically, scrambling off the ground.

Neither Sirius or I answered him, as Sirius was ripping through my trunk and I was circling the vent, trying to figure out what to do.

The clanging was coming closer and closer…

"SIRIUS!" I bellowed, stomach knotting painfully, "BROOM! NOW!"

"I'M TRYING!" Sirius howled back.

I could see the cat's long, spindly paw as it crawled the last few feet…

"SIRIUS!"

"YES!" Sirius pumped his fist in the air and flew to my side, handing me my broom just as the freakish cat burst from the vents.

Peter and Sirius stood crouched behind me, obviously attempting to figure out my fabulous plan.

I had no idea and was just winging it, but they didn't need to know that.

I slid carefully onto my broom, racking my brain for any possible way this could work and cursing Lord Thompson of the Meatballs.

"Get on my broom," I breathed to the other two.

"What?" Sirius's head snapped in my direction.

"It can't hold all of us, James," Peter whispered in fear.

"Just get on!"

The cat strolled toward us slowly, enjoying our helplessness, flicking its claws out one by one.

"NOW!" I bellowed, and with all my strength, I pushed off from the floor.

The cat hissed and spit, hair standing on end, leaping and spinning, trying to grab the broom, but I angled toward the open window and shot out into the moonlit night like a javelin.

For several horrible moments, we flew straight upwards, like a reverse Quidditch dive; and suddenly the ground was plummeting nearer and nearer as the broom fought to compensate our weight, and I felt Peter and Sirius clinging frantically as the downward force lifted them entirely off the broom.

I clenched my teeth in concentration, turning the broom with all my might, shoulders and ears popping and feet flailing, sending us in dangerous fishtails near the castle walls.

"James!" Sirius shouted hysterically, fighting to find a purchase on my gravity beaten broom.

"I got this!" I yelled back, and without warning, pulled us all into a Wonsky Feint.

The air was whipping me in the face, and Peter and Sirius screaming, but the change in direction slid them back onto the broom, and slammed them into me.

My back seared with pain, but I had no time for that. I urged my broom forward, hair flying insanely, ground plummeting closer and closer.

I grunted, and with tremendous effort, brought us parallel to the ground with three feet to spare.

"Merlin, James," Sirius panted, eyes closed, pulse racing. "It's a good thing you know how to fly.

I had no energy to speak, and instead rolled sideways off my broom, falling on my back within the damp grass. I gazed at the full moon emerging from the crowds, finally feeling at peace.

"Oy! What are you ones doing out there?"

Light spilled from above, and my stomach dropped like a stone. A man I could not recognize stood in a window, gazing down at us.

And on his shoulder?

The freakish cat.

"Run!" I yelled, and once more, Sirius, Peter, and I took off racing, my broomstick dragging behind us like a subdued dog.

"Oy! Get back here!"

We were flying over the grounds in no particular direction. My blood was pumping insanely, and I could hear my lungs laboring and feet aching. We passed the small stone hut we always wondered about, and for some odd reason, Madame Pomfrey, guiding a slender figure wrapped in a cloak towards the Whomping Willow.

Unable to control my flying feet, I slammed full force into the cloaked figure.

"Sorry!" I shouted fiercely, barely taking time to pause. A deep-throated growling, ripping noise answered me, and I turned to watch a head of sandy hair disappear.

A familiar head of sandy hair…

"Mate!" Sirius screamed, "Where are we going?"

"Forbidden Forest!" I answered automatically, returning to the front of our pack.

"WHAT?"

But I was already leaping headfirst into the dark wood, landing painfully in a tumbling roll, and bolting through the trees.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I woke curled up in a prickly bush, covered in mud and muck and unicorn crap, dried leaves and twigs stuck in my hair, dazed, confused, bewildered, and ridiculously sore.

My memories came rushing back, and I placed my broken glasses on my nose, body alert, searching for anything that would make sense of where we were.

I turned slowly, searching for the freakish cat, but he was nowhere to be seen. Sirius and Peter were both collapsed nearby, after bombing through the forest with me until exhaustion took its toll, and we lay down, frightened and lost.

Merlin, what a classic Hansel and Gretel moment.

"Well, what do we 'ave 'ere?"

Oh my God! The evil witch that eats children!

I scrambled heroically to my feet, ready to take on any dumpy little witch that wanted to nibble my toes off.

That's strange. I can't see her head. Perhaps my glasses are broken ridiculously bad.

"Look up, ya brave l'ttle one," the voice was deep and whiskery, but at the same time kind and comforting.

I raised my head, slowly, dreadfully.

The man was enormous, at least 12 feet tall, with feet the size of dolphins and hands like trash can lids, his face covered in a giant, bushy black beard.

I stared, dumbfounded, as the man laughed loudly.

He was also holding a crossbow, loaded.

Joy.

"Um…" I began squeakily, gazing up at him. "James Potter, Gryffindor, at your service."

The giant looked rather hurt.

"Ya don't r'member me? I led all yer little first years across the lake, r'member?"

Realization split my face in a grin of relief.

"Hagrid!" I cried joyously, my cry awaking both Sirius and Peter, who scrambled to their feet, both looking as disheveled and disgusting as I was.

Hagrid eyed us with amusement.

"I sense a story. C'mon, let's get yer back to me house."

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"Curse that cat!" Hagrid cried angrily, slamming his hand upon the table, causing the entire room to shake.

We nodded vigorously from our spots on the couch, clutching the giant mugs and still covered in gunk.

"Uh, Hagrid?" I said slowly, "I think your dog likes me."

"What Canine? He don't mean no 'arm, just wants a place to rest 'is 'ead!"

Canine was currently slobbered across my lap, drooling maniacally all over me.

Sirius sniggered.

Oh, friends.

"Well, there's no use gettin yer back to school now, what covered with mud and all that," Hagrid said reasonably, stretching out at the table and pulling out a pair of half-knitted hospital scrubs.

"It doesn't matter anyway," I answered carefully. "It's the weekend."

"It's Friday, James."

"Exactly! It's the weekend!" I said irritably.

Hagrid rolled his eyes.

"I hope their teachin yer the days of the week up there," he sighed, and resumed knitting.

"Why are you making hospital scrubs?" Peter asked curiously.

"Fer me cousin, Fredrick. 'e works at an 'ospital, and thought 'e'd like a nice pair ter wear," Hagrid answered absent-mindedly, absorbed in Fredrick's present.

Well then.

"So that solves one of our problems," I mused out loud. "We just have to figure out what to do about the rest of them, especially the freakish cat."

Canine whined loudly in my lap.

WARNING: IDEA MIGHT HIT YOU IN THE HEAD. DANGER ZONE.

I stared down at him, then turned to share matching grins with Sirius.

"Brilliant, mate!" Sirius laughed high-fiving me.

We turned to high-five Peter, but he wasn't paying attention to us. He was staring at a giant, fuzzy, pink blanket draped across the back of the sofa.

Seriously, it was like a carnival tent.

Peter's eyes were shining with excitement.

"You guys wanna play fort?"

I shrugged, still thrilled with my solution.

"Why not!"

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"Thanks again for letting us borrow Canine, Hagrid!" I panted, using all my strength to hold onto the dog's leash.

"S'not a problem a'tall, James," Hagrid called happily. "Are you three gonna visit me tomorrow, then?"

"Of course!" Sirius shouted excitedly. "We can play fort again!"

What? It was the nastiest game of fort I've ever played.

Hagrid let loose a booming laugh.

"Be safe!" he warned.

Safety reminded me of something.

"Hagrid?" I called tentatively, "You don't mind if we bring another friend, tomorrow?"

"'Course not!"

And with that, Hagrid snapped the door shut.

We turned to face the walk up to the castle, which was surprisingly painful, seeing as Canine would randomly decide to bomb ahead and drag me across rocks and bushes and even through the lake at one point.

While Sirius and Peter cracked up hysterically in relative safety, free of a crazed dog on a leash.

"Hagrid better not breed you," I muttered, laboring to get away from the muddy animal.

I mean, come on, we already smell disgusting and are covered in mud, and you wanna make it worse?

Sirius snickered.

"He's gonna breed him all right, mate. A nice big one named Fang, who'll drool all over your future son!"

"Shut up!"

"And you'll be married to Prissy Evans!" Sirius howled, finding himself hilarious.

"Like that will ever happen," I snapped, but before we could argue further, we had reached the castle.

And there it was.

The cat was waiting, right on the front steps, claws out, glaring at us.

I smiled evilly at it, and slid the leash off the growling Canine.

I have been told I looked psychotic that day by one Prissy Evans. I had leaves and twigs stuck in my hair, which was matted by so much mud it looked brown. My clothes were plastered with all sorts of disgusting things, and I had one squashed beetle under my eye.

All in all, I wasn't my charming self.

I am sure, dear devoted guide-readers, you probably know what transpired next.

You should also know that the evil cat was named Mrs. Norris, beloved pet of the caretaker, Argus Filch.

You might be horrified to realize this, but Mrs. Norris had a batch of kittens a week ago, and the maddened Filch had sold all of them, save one.

One he named Mrs. Norris 2.

Of course, Professor McGonagall wasn't very happy with us, I'm afraid. She gave us a detention that night, the last night without Remus, to clean her entire room from top to bottom.

We were, as always, trying extremely hard.

"James! Pass it here!" Sirius cried, waving his arms insanely.

I grinned and chucked the prized snow globe of Minnie to him.

Sirius made a fabulous catch, but stumbled backwards, slamming full force into McGonagall's desk, uprooting all her papers and smashing a bottle of Chanel No. 5 all over the floor.

Sirius was covered in the sticky perfume.

"Oh crap! Now I smell like a girl!" he moaned, frantically trying to wave the scent off of him.

"You smell like Jacob, mate," I teased, and I was rewarded by being squashed into the puddle of hideous perfume.

"Ha," Sirius remarked, glaring down at me. "Now you do to."

Sighing, Peter performed the repairing spell to fix the broken mess of glass and stink, and knelt down to examine the papers.

Sirius and I were arguing about potatoes.

"Well, I still think in a street fight, the King of Potatoes would beat Lord Thompson," Sirius stated angrily.

Peter, meanwhile, was very still, clutching one small handwritten note stained with perfume.

"Are you kidding me?" I exclaimed in disbelief. "Lord Thompson was huge! He could take a potato easily!"

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Pete, what ways more, a giant potato or a giant meatball?"

Peter didn't answer.

"Pete?"

I knelt down beside him, and he wordlessly handed me the note.

Sirius leaned over my shoulder, curious.

_Dear Professor McGonagall-_

_Remus J. Lupin is excused from all classes the Thursday and Friday this week for reasons well known to you, concerning the full moon and lycanthropic complications. _

_Best,_

_Madame Pomfrey_

For several long moments, I was absorbed in the image of the head of sandy hair, growling viciously, wrapped in the cloak.

Now that I think about it, he was exactly the same height as Remus.

"Lycanthropy," Sirius croaked, his throat dry and cracking.

Suddenly, meatballs and potatoes having a bum fight didn't matter anymore.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

**Muahahaha. A Cliffie.**

Like it? Hate it? Love it? Adore it? Get the point yet?

The more reviews I get the faster I update, so review!

**I must admit, I love when people tell me their favorite quotes : )**

So feedback would be great on my A/N, and, as usual

**IF ANYONE HAS IDEAS ABOUT FUTURE CHAPTERS LET ME KNOW!**

**-danielle**


	8. What to do When You Find Out Your BFF is

I'm on a roll.

Well, I found this chapter extremely hard to write, seeing as it had to actually be serious, tinged with some little episodes of insanity. It's probably one of the shortest chapters I've written, but now that I've got it done, it gives me free range to begin the four or five part holiday chapters I have planned, each from a Marauder's –and Lily's—view point. Get excited.

**Thanks to all my fabulous reviewers:** Vampire Scooby, in-the-shadow-I-hide, **Wowzeers54:** gracias! Yo reí cuando veí esta revision. (I laughed when I saw this review? Ha I'm horrible too.)

Marissa, Karin-chan9743, The Queen of Confusion, Jess.91, Kira 2667, luvnmarauders, Crayon-Lover, cooliogirl47, Pijeon20042, Tyem Marodyor, GlintingSaphires, padfoot's favorite girl, PhantomoftheBasket, TheRavenclawNinja, twilight610, books4evah, IAMaMUDBLOOD, mrs. ronald bilius weasley, angel-of-vampires, and:

**anonymous jane**: ah I'm so glad you like it! I just wish you reviewed earlier, because I already finished this chapter. But I will continue the challenge in the next chapter. Onward! Haha.

**Saragirl47: **I like the idea. No, I adore it. I'm certain it can turn into a great chapter in third year. Thanks!!

**I must admit, I love when people tell me their favorite quotes from the story. ******

**Disclaimer: **In the words of the famous Canadian professor Avril Lavigne, why'd you have to go and make things so complicated? I see the way you're acting like you're somebody else, it's got me frustrated. And you fall, and you crawl, and you take what you get and you turn it into—hopefully the true horror of a quote from New York Minute has convinced you not to sue.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

**Chapter 6: What to do When You Find Out Your Best Friend is a Werewolf**

The entire room was silent as I stared down at that little note. How could something so small contain a secret that could change a million memories? I hardly breathed.

I glanced up to see that Sirius and Peter were staring at me, expectations in their eyes, a willingness to obey. They wanted me to take charge. They looked to me for leadership, relied on me to make the decision that would utterly change our lives.

I wish I could just jump up, rip the up note, and shout, "He's a werewolf! Big deal! Let's go get some fig pudding and call it a day, boys!"

But I can't. Because he really is a werewolf.

This isn't some stupid prank we pulled. This is real.

I stood up slowly, going for the bold, anguished-filled hero, faced with a terrible decision. Of course, I forgot about the giant puddle of Chanel perfume, and I did a 180 back flip back down.

Peter coughed suspiciously, and Sirius flat out snickered.

"Bold, anguish-filled hero, mate? Thought you learned your lesson about that one at your eighth birthday party when you tried to decide which piece of cake to take."

"Back flip into that cage of tarantulas, which conveniently broke open," I sighed, drenched in sticky perfume that gave my hair a pinkish hue.

Sirius reached down and petted the top of my perfume head. "Good boy."

Just like that, the terrible tension was gone, and I scrambled to my feet, once again the fearless leader of the Marauders.

"Lets get this room cleaned up first, get some fig pudding, and talk about this later in the dorms," I commanded, cracking my invisible whip over the heads of my slaves.

Sirius, who has of course learned to read my mind, snorts loudly. "Shut up, slave driver, and help clean."

How very rude of him. I shall have to spit in his fig pudding for that.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Sirius eyed his fig pudding suspiciously. "It looks funny," he stated carefully, digging around through the goodness like a crime scene investigator.

"Really? Mine's just fine," I answered cheerily, hastily wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Sirius shrugged and swallowed his share whole.

Revenge.

Trying to contain myself from shrieking out loud, I spotted Prissy Evans staring at me from the corner of her eyes, obviously trying to conceal her stalking. Her long red hair fell delicately around her tiny face, and she had a velvet bow in her hair, with a tiny sprig of mistletoe tucked into her collar. I had to grudgingly admit she looked decent.

Prissy Evans glanced up at me, and quickly took in my appearance: smudged collar, wrinkled robes, messy black hair covered in sticky perfume, and a manic look that only comes from spitting in some one's pudding.

I expected Evans to scowl and chuck something heavy at my head. But instead she turned beet red, and stuttered, "H-h-hello, James."

I waved back cheerily, still filled with my Sirius victory. "Hello, Lily."

Wait.

Did I just call her LILY?

Sirius and Peter are staring at me in shock.

I gotta cover this up quick.

I threw my arms around wildly and shouted hysterically, "I spit in your pudding, Sirius!"

I watched Sirius's face turn a strange shade of purple with glee.

"WHAT?"

I then took off running.

"POTTER!!!!!"

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

_Perhaps_, I reflected as I sprinted full speed up the Great stairs, clutching a spoon and grinning manically, _I'm a little unstable and upset about finding out my best friend's a werewolf. I should confess to a teacher my problem like in the Muggle movies, before someone gets hurt. _

But that would take to much effort and force me to change directions entirely, so I opted for the dangerous road.

Compelled by my metaphor of a road, I began to sing.

Loudly and extremely well, I might add.

"LIFE IS A HIGH WAY, I'M GONNA RIDE IT, ALL NIGHT LONG! IF YOU'RE GOING MY WAY, I'M GONNA SOMETHING SOMETHING SOMETHING OHHHHH!"

"Stop singing that bloody tune you little crazy!" Sirius hounded from behind me. He had recently picked up a mace, and although this had slowed him down slightly, he still seemed pretty determined.

I finally rounded the bend to the portrait. I was in the homestretch. I was safe.

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked, smoothing her dress.

Damn.

I ran back to the landing, where Sirius was laboring up the stairs, his eyes glazed over with revenge.

"Hey Sirius!" I called, standing on tiptoes and doing pirouettes, "I know you're furious, and you wanna kill me and everything, but do you know the password to the common room?"

"It's humperdink, remember?"

"What is it? I can't hear you very well!"

"IT'S HUMPERDINK! THE PASSWORD TO THE GRYFFINDOR COMMON ROOM WHICH IS LOCATED ON THE SEVENTH FLOOR BEHIND THE FAT BRAUD IN THE PINK DRESS IS HUMPERDINK! HUMPERDINK, YOU HEAR? THAT'S H-U-M-P-E-R-D-I-N-K!" Sirius bellowed hysterically.

Somewhere in the bowels of the castle, creepy stalkers wrote said password upon their hands with evil grins.

"Alright! Thanks, mate! See you at the top of the stairs, man!" I waved cheerfully to the deranged Sirius and skipped towards the Fat Lady, who was staring at me in mingled shock, confusion, and a little pity.

"So, as I'm sure you heard," I started, rubbing my hands together experimentally, "The password is—"

But I got distracted with rubbing my hands together.

"Look, look! They're a blur! My hands are a blur of flesh! And they're so warm! Do you think they could light on fire?" I eagerly asked the Fat Lady, while I flopped cross-legged on the floor, examining my blurry hands.

The Fat Lady sighed and swung open.

"Only an idiot like you would belong in Gryffindor, child," the Fat Lady snapped. "They had no where else to put you."

"Kay, see you soon!" I shouted cheerfully, skipping to my feet and clambering into the portrait hole. "Miss you already!"

She slammed shut in my face.

Hmph. There is something important I should be doing; yet I can't remember.

It involved an axe, I'm certain.

Or was it a mace?

As I sat contemplating what I had ran away from and the meanings of life, Sirius stormed into the common room, livid. But upon seeing me stroking my chin thoughtfully and looking all poetic, he threw the mace neatly into the wall and sat down beside me.

For several long moments, neither of us spoke. I felt tired beyond all belief, and sad. I just didn't know why.

Finally, Sirius spoke.

"It's alright to be upset, mate."

"About what?" I answered tersely, blood boiling. "I'm fine, nothing can bother me!"

Sirius just shook his head.

"No you're not," he retorted, black eyes filling with concern. "You suck at lying, and you're torn up about Remus, and whether we should be around him anymore."

I didn't answer.

"I know how you are," Sirius continued. "I know you too well. The last time you got all psychotic and crazy, it was because Mrs. Potter had that miscarriage. Which was really hard. For all of us."

His voice cracked.

"Because we all knew you would have been an amazing older brother, James. And it took you a long time to get out of that stage of shock. Of panic, of wanting to live dangerously. It took you a broken neck to snap out of it.

"But here's the difference, this time; you have me. And I'm not gonna let it get that far. We're all dealing with it different ways. Pete, he could care less, as long as he's in agreement with us. I'm used to being the odd one, the one shunned."

He grew quiet for several moments.

"I think that's why I like Remus so much. I can accept him, and so can Peter. But it's all up to you, James. You're a lot more thoughtful and deep then we are. And sometimes, it hits you harder than it hits us. Sometimes, you just gotta face it, and punch it right between the legs."

I dropped my head upon Sirius's shoulder. He was better than any psychiatrist I'd ever had.

Gently, he stroked my hair.

"But it's you choice, James," Sirius said strongly. "I can't make it for you, and whatever you choose, I'm on your side, permanently. We need each other, mate; without you, I don't work right. I figure we could survive, without Remus.

"But just keep a couple things in mind for me, will you? Think about how much fun we have with him, hiding from Jacob, and almost killing Evans. And think about how much fun it's gonna be to corrupt him and bring him to the dark side. Weigh the options. I'm by your side."

Sirius pulled me into a hug, and suddenly, I wasn't eleven and brave and a leader. I was eight, listening to my mother sob, and wondering why they were taking down the crib in the room next to mine.

I touched my forehead to Sirius's. Our eyes met, and I felt that bond: the one I've never had with anyone else, not even my parents.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Sirius nodded, and, like his usual self, went to fetch the mace from the wall.

The Common Room portrait swung open once again, and in stumbled Peter, clutching a tub of pudding.

"What'd I miss?" he panted, leaning on his knees.

I glanced over at Sirius, who was determinedly tugging the mace from the whole in the wall. I swiftly wiped my eyes, regained my composure, and turned to grin at Pete.

"Nothing much, dudeman. Mind sharing the pudding?"

Grudgingly, Peter handed me the tub.

"Thanks," I whispered once again, but my eyes looked past Peter, and trained on Sirius. He met my gaze, and his black eyes bore into me.

Without him, I didn't work right.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Sirius and Peter had long since gone to bed. I bent low over my parchment. My hand whirred across the rough paper.

I had not talked to anyone all night.

I had crammed myself into the farthest table in the darkest nook of the common room, and I had spent my evening writing a list.

A list of all things Remus.

Things I remembered about him: how he folded his socks, his favorite boxers, the color of his eyes.

Not that I know any of these things, of course.

And then I wrote all the things I knew about werewolves in the other column. This one, to my frustration, grew longer and longer, terrible facts and tales I had heard. My cousin, killed by a werewolf in a rage. Fenrir Greyback.

Sirius hadn't forced me to make a choice. He knew I would make the right one, and when I needed to.

But what was the right choice?

"James?" the voice was so timid I almost didn't hear it.

I jumped about a foot in the air, and turned to see Prissy Evans, her tiny nose wrinkled in sleepiness and her velvet bow askew, staring down at me with question marks in her eyebrows.

Shoot. My paper has the heading "Remus the Werewolf".

Without warning, my hand snaked out, and I stuffed the two-foot parchment whole into my mouth.

Prissy Evans nose became unwrinkled in surprise.

I chewed viciously, the rough parchment scratching my throat, and swallowed.

Prissy Evans was still staring at me in shock.

"Lack of fiber in my diet," I choked out, thumping my chest as I got serious paper cuts down my esophagus.

"So you ate the paper you've been working on for the past three hours?"

Maybe.

"Uh, it was a dire emergency," I explained away, already wincing at the thought of my morning bathroom trip.

"I'm sure," Evans laughed, her pink bathrobe reflecting softly on her face.

Slowly, she descended the steps of the girls' dormitory, blushing.

"What are you doing homework for, anyway? It's Friday, James."

She allowed herself a small smile that opened her face.

"It's finally the weekend."

I smiled back at her, unabashed, but oddly full of a warm feeling in my stomach.

"Actually, it's not homework," I answered carefully, playing with my quill and avoiding her piercing stare. "I'm working on making a decision about a friend."

Evans crossed the little space left between us and perched awkwardly on the arm of my chair. Her eyes were filled with mixed curiosity and concern.

"Is it someone I know?" she asked quietly, her hair falling across her face.

I had the weirdest desire to tuck said hair behind her ear, but fought the urge by slapping myself across the face.

Stars popped up and Evans gasped, but I nodded, cross-eyed, at the two girls I was seeing.

"You might," I replied with difficulty.

"What are you trying to decide?" Evans predictably demanded.

I bounced my heels off the ground and sighed.

"It's complicated right now, but I swear I'll tell you the whole story later. But basically, it's about whether to keep that friend, or dump them."

"What did they do?" Evans asked, gazing at me, the fire reflecting off of her green depths.

"More what they are, to be exact," I muttered sheepishly, smiling effortlessly.

Evans blushed deeply, but was not swerved off her course.

"Do you like them for who they are?" Evans whispered, leaning closer to me.

I was too distracted by her looming face to answer swiftly.

"Uh, yeah. Well, not during that certain astronomical time period- uh, that time of the month, so to speak- but yes," I stuttered frantically, wishing more than ever for Evans to stop coming closer to me.

Yet somehow still aching for her to come nearer.

Evans giggled.

Even to this day, I remember that giggle. I've heard it a thousand times since, but the first time, it was so utterly irresistible. Her hair slipped across her face, and her lips popped apart, ever so slightly.

"So what are you doing for break?" I blurted out without warning, staring at a point right above Prissy's head.

Her face fell immediately.

"My parents are visiting my sister Petunia in Edinburgh, way over in Scotland. I'm staying here, I guess. You?"

"Me, Sirius, Peter, and Re- well, any way, us Marauders, are staying until Christmas Day. Then my mom has demanded we all spend the rest of the holiday together, even if she has to shackle us in chains to stay," I answered quickly, my words tumbling out. My heart beat like a drum.

Evans seemed uncertain about my sanity, but answered all the same, "Sounds like, uh, fun?"

"You should come!" I nearly shouted. "It'll be great, and you won't have to spend Christmas with just the teachers for company. My parents have like over 500 acres on the estates, so if you wanted to avoid us, you could just go into the woods. PLUS we have the most amazing New Year's ever. Last year the Minister came."

I was quite out of breath by now, and I sat there, breathing heavily, staring at Evans.

Her face was a mask of surprise, but the corners of her mouth were tugging into a smile.

"Sure! I'll go write my parents now!"

Evans turned towards the stairs, clambering ungracefully up the steps. My cheeks burned with horror. What had I just done?

"Oh, and James?" Evans turned around on the stairs, her red hair a halo around her. "I'd keep that friend. You're not perfect either, and if you're doubting him because of who he is, well, that's just shallow." She gave a dazzling smile. "You're not as bad as you look. Goodnight, Potter."

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"YOU DID WHAT?!"

"_Sirius. Sirius, keep your voice down. She's right there_."

"OH, I SEE HER! YOU DON'T NEED TO POINT HER OUT TO ME!"

"_Sirius. Sirius, please understand, it was like, two in the morning_."

"I DON'T' CARE IF IT WAS 'TWO IN THE MORNING'! YOU RUINED ALL OF OUR PLANS!"

"_Sirius, please…"_

"YOU'RE A TRAITOR!"

"Sirius? _Why_ are you still yelling?"

"Why are YOU not whispering anymore?"

I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Too much effort."

"Too true," Sirius agreed, falling into step beside me. The common room was almost deserted this Saturday morning.

"But…" Sirius turned to face me exasperatedly. "It's EVANS! She'll poison the Christmas stew, James. She's a demon, remember? I'M your best friend. I'M the one you ask for advice."

"Are you jealous?" Peter blurted out from behind us, eyebrows raised questioningly.

Sirius's eyes could burn someone alive.

"No, Peter, I'm not jealous of a GIRL," Sirius snapped, in a tone that completely disproved his point. "I just don't want a repeat of the Amy incident. I can't not talk to you for three bloody weeks, again, James. It killed me not to point out on that Tuesday you wore your trousers backwards and walked around without noticing.

Damn.

"Look, mate, you're still my best friend in the entire world, and I did take your advice," I answered consolingly, rolling my eyes.

Sirius sniffled.

"Really?" he begged, as he clambered/fell out of the portrait hole, giving me a concentrated dose of the puppy dog stare.

"Really, Snuffles, I did. And if you don't STOP snuffling, your new nickname is going to BE Snuffles," I ordered, walking briskly down the Grand Staircase.

Leave it to me to kill the sensitive mood.

Sirius, however, looked rather thoughtful, not even noticing that he had slippers on with a pair of skinny jeans.

But it wasn't killing ME to point this out.

Double revenge.

"That's a good codename, Snuffles," Sirius said conversationally as he trotted down the hall in the fuzzy slippers. "Like if were robbing a bank, or—"

"Or a tissue box," Peter cut in, slapping his knee and proceeding to laugh loudly for several minutes.

"Sirius," I whispered, "I don't get it."

Sirius however, just shrugged his shoulders and answered from the corner of his mouth, "Just look at him and smile."

I rolled my eyes, and was about to retort back to Sirius when the sound of hooves on cobblestone echoed across the courtyard below, down the stairs.

I froze, and locked eyes with Sirius.

Without warning, I catapulted down the stairs, zooming across the marble like a crazy person, before skidding to a halt before the open front doors. Late fall sunlight streamed in, and I got bashed in the face with about 500 leaves floating by.

Damn leaves. We should just burn all the trees down. It would solve so many problems.

A pair of long legs clothed in blue jeans hopped out of the carriage, carrying a beat-up trunk with a jacket tucked under his arm.

I gulped.

As if sensing me, Remus looked up. His face, though tired and pale, split with joy, and he grinned, his sandy cowlicks erratic.

I forced a fake smile upon my face, and hesitantly slid down the steps.

"Hi, James," Remus greeted tiredly, still beaming. "Glad to see you idiots didn't burn the castle down when I was gone."

The nerve of some people.

"Uh, dudeman, it was a no-worries situation. We had a fire extinguisher," I grumbled playfully, shoving him backwards off the steps and into the cobblestones.

Remus eyed me with annoyance as he clambered off the ground.

"Did you know how to work it?" he asked suspiciously.

I rolled my eyes, grabbing Remus's trunk.

"Of course," I retorted confidently, leading the way back into the castle. "I just told Peter to sit on it, and he did as he was told."

"Merlin help us all," Remus muttered, floating in after me.

Sirius and Peter sat on the bottom step of the Grand Staircase. Neither of them could disguise their emotions very well. Point in question:

"Hey guys! How was it without me?" Remus asked cheerfully, stopping beside me.

Sirius and Peter just stared at him blankly.

Remus turned to me, eyebrows raised.

"Let's put your stuff away, first!" I shouted manically, tucking the suitcase underneath my arm like a football and dragging Remus up the stairs by his elbow.

I am so good at distractions.

"James," Remus panted, wriggling in my grasp, "Shoulder socket. Ball and socket joint. Dislocating as we speak. Can lead to sprains, strains, and fractures. LET GO."

"Right, sorry," I answered distractedly, leading him into the Common Room with my usual vigor. The Fat Lady didn't even bother asking the password.

"James!" Remus laughed, escaping my grasp and hopping around the Common Room. "Give me back my trunk. I can carry it myself."

Grudgingly, I leaned forward, extending the trunk towards Remus's outstretched arms.

Remus's sleeves pulled backwards, revealing a pattern of scars and bite marks up his arms, fresh, some still bleeding.

My blood ran cold, and I turned away, mind staggering.

It was true.

Like silent shadows, Peter and Sirius finally entered, staring in bewildered fashion at Remus's hurt and uncertain face and my hard, cool stare.

Sirius tugged on my sleeve.

"Let's put your stuff away, Remus Romulus," he reminded Remus, ruffling his hair playfully.

Silently, Remus followed us up the stairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his hands tremble.

When Peter closed the thick wooden door of our dormitory, no one spoke for several long moments. We each drifted to our own beds, with Remus's back facing us.

Slowly, he began to unpack his trunk.

"So Remus," I began carefully, "How was your mum?"

"Oh, she's okay. She's still not feeling well, but I think she'll be up for the Potter Extravaganzas."

"Good, good," I answered flatly, picking at my bedspread. "What ward was she in again, mate?"

"Magical Illnesses," Remus responded in a rehearsed manner, neatly folding his sweatshirts.

"That's on the seventh floor, right?"

"Yep."

"Remus."

Remus turned to face me, and I trained my eyes, directly on him. Gray met hazel.

"There are only six floors, mate," I said softly.

The trunk slipped sideways off his bed, landing with a clatter upon to wooden floor.

"T-t-that's what I m-m-meant," Remus stuttered, hurriedly scrambling for his scattered belongings. "Mates, could you help me pick—"

"Remus," I cut in again. "We know. You don't have to lie."

For the first time, Remus whirled around, and his temper flared.

"Know what?" he snapped, gray eyes glittering with rage. "Know the secret I've covered up for six years? Know my downfall, my weakness, my dark past? What would you even know about lying, huh? Have you lied to your friends, everyday, always afraid the truth will come out, slip out, escape? Have you ever had your father not look you in the eyes, because he's so ashamed of your sickness? _Have you ever been bitten by a werewolf, James?"_

The words echoed oddly through the still room. His chest heaved unevenly. This was the moment. Sirius was staring at me, trying to fathom my decision.

"No," I said simply. "I haven't."

Remus staggered over to his four-poster, his face green.

"But I know how hard that must be," I continued. "And I know I'm-we're- going to be here for every step, every lie, every full moon, and every scheme: until the day I die. That is what I solemnly swear, upon my life."

Remus stared at me, disbelief etched across his features.

"Do you really want to associate with a werewolf?" Remus asked bitterly, clearly hating himself for asking.

"Well that depends," I replied, smiling slightly. "Do you mind associating with a pure-blood maniac ostracized from his family, a crazy Quidditch loon, and Peter?"

Remus smiled.

"Now that you put it that way…" he tapped his chin in mock consideration.

"Remus?"

"Yep?"

"Shut up."

He grinned, the paleness of his face fading.

"I solemnly swear," Peter said absent-mindedly, staring out the window. "It has a nice ring to it."

"One thing I'm wondeirng," Remus voiced, "how did you find out?"

"Eh," I answered, sharing a glance with Sirius and Peter, "It's a long, strange story."

"Does it have anything to do with why the room is blockaded?"

"Uh, maybe," I answered off-handedly.

Remus sighed, shaking his head.

Without warning, I ran over and embraced Remus, pulling him into a hug.

"I trust you with my life, mate, and I think you can trust me with this little secret about, uh, your time of the month?"

Remus wrinkled his nose.

"I'm a werewolf, James, not secretly a woman. Save that for Jacob," he laughed, pulling away.

"Fine," I grumbled, "then it shall be your furry little problem."

Sirius snorted.

"What is it, a rabbit?"

We all seemed to notice him for the first time.

"Why have you been so quiet?" I demanded, flopping down on his bed.

He gave a sly smile.

"Oh, nothing, Jamison, just planning secret stuff that I can't tell you," he answered airily, waving his arms about.

"Okay."

"Here's what I'm planning," Sirius blurted out, unable to control himself. "Remus, you have to do the transformations alone, right? So what if, WHAT IF, we did them with you?"

"You want me to turn you all into werewolves?" Remus asked doubtfully.

"Um, no. You know how Minnie can transform herself into a cat at will? What if we became Animaguses too? We could accompany you every full moon, and it would be entirely our own secret."

"Yes!" I shouted, pumping my fist in the air. "That's brilliant, mate, and we're all so smart we won't even need professor's help; she won't even have to know!"

"None of them will," Remus said quietly. "We'd all get expelled if they found out."

Sirius rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"No risk, no fun," he dismissed, with a wave of his arm.

Peter had scrambled over to his bedside cabinet, and now clutched a piece of parchment, looking eager.

"What animals do you guys want to be?" he asked.

Remus snorted.

"Well, Sirius should be a bird because he has about the brain of one."

"Hey, shut up over there FMS," Sirius snapped irritably.

"FMS?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"Full Moon Syndrome."

Remus set his mouth.

"Clever."

"Well?" Peter looked impatient.

"Uh," Sirius muttered, scratching his chin, "I love dogs. Especially big ones. I want to be a big, black dog."

"Like the Grim?" I questioned.

Sirius smiled bitterly.

"I am the Grim, James. An accident waiting to happen."

"That's not true," I answered gently.

Sirius shrugged indifferently.

"Well," Remus interrupted thoughtfully, "I transform under the Whomping Willow, you know, so someone has to be small enough to freeze the tree so we can all get under."

"Freeze the tree?" I questioned, puzzled.

"There's a knob that makes it stop whomping people," Remus explained.

"Useful."

"Very."

"I'll be the small animal," Peter volunteered, scribbling madly. "A mouse, I think."

"Ew," Sirius scrunched his face. "Mouse is so girly."

"Alright, then," Peter retorted, irritated, now crossing out madly. "A rat."

"James?" Sirius asked, turning towards me. "What about you?"

"A stag," I answered automatically.

They all stared at me in confusion.

"A stag," Remus repeated.

"Yeah, they're male deer."

"I know what they are, James. But why a stag?"

"Because," I replied arrogantly, "They are magnificent, beautiful, fast, and sexy."

Silence.

"But," Sirius asked, flabbergasted, "What does that have to do with you?"

I shall have to kill him.

Remus rolled his eyes, but managed a smile all the same.

"That's a cool animal, James," Peter commented, hand still racing across the page.

"What are you writing?" I asked curiously, leaning towards him.

Realizing he was outnumbered three to one, Peter dutifully handed me the parchment.

_I solemnly swear that we are up to no good. _

_Remus- full moon- Moony_

_Sirius-black dog- Padfoot_

_Me- rat- Wormtail_

_James- stag- Prongs_

I stared down at the cross-outs in amazement.

"Did you just make these up, Pete?"

Peter blushed furiously.

"Yeah, I did."

"These are brilliant!" Sirius exclaimed, dancing around in excitement. "Now no one will understand what we're talking about when we talk about our plans!"

Even Remus seemed pleased.

"These are very good, Pete," he offered, and we all had the satisfaction of watching Peter's self-esteem go up.

"From now on," I declared, leaping upon my bed, "I am Prongs!"

"And I am Padfoot!" Sirius bellowed.

"And I am Wormtail!" Peter shouted fiercely, leaping to his feet with unusual agility.

"And I am Moony!" Remus answered boldly, his face shining with happiness.

"And we are the Marauders Reborn!" I cried, arms uplifted like a preacher.

"The Marauders Reborn!" Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail echoed.

"Now the only thing we have to worry about is Hagrid accidentally shooting Prongs," Sirius snickered.

"Hagrid?" Moony asked, puzzled.

No one answered him. We were too busy giggling.

"How long is this going to take?" Wormtail managed through his laughter.

I shrugged.

"I don't know. At least three years, maybe four."

Moony's face sank.

"But don't worry, mate," I grinned, ruffling his hair, "We'll have plenty of pranks to do anyway."

"Good, because I'm starving," Remus finished, eyeing the door. "Let's grab something to eat in the Hall. Guys? What is SO funny?"

Padfoot, Wormtail, and I all studied our own patch of floor.

"About the house-elves…" I began sheepishly.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

That's my favorite chapter yet! You get to see the sensitive sides of all the boys, AND Lily and James are starting to have little sparks! How long until he blows it…

**Next time on WTDW: Ch. 7 A Sirius Christmas Adventure**

_REVIEW! (And I must admit, I love when people tell me their favorite quotes)_

-danielle♠♣


	9. A Sirius Christmas Adventure

OMG! I actually updated within a week! (Hyperventilates)

DAMN, that was hard to write, and I'm not exactly sure if I like it. Let me tell you, Sirius is a hard narrator. I'm also warning you that BECAUSE this is a Sirius episode, the others aren't in it much. But they'll be in the other ones, I promise. I SHOULD go over it like ten times and revise, but I just get so excited at the thought of updating I kind of just wing it.

OH! And so I've decided that, like most authors, in honor of my 200th review which is still so far away, that person will be added to a chapter. Seriously, whoever they want to be, they can be it. GET EXCITED.

For actually updating kind of fast, I expect reviews! Haha, jk, jk.

**I dedicate this chapter to all my loyal fans who have always given me amazing ideas and support. Why, I sound so weird right now…but then again, I DID just watch Weird Science, so…THANK YOU!**

**Thanks to all my fabulous reviewers: **Angel-of-vampires,Jesse Lin, Cinderella912, 00Jade, Crayon-Lover, Jess.91, saragirl47, Vampire Scooby, honey-puh, books4evah, Marissa, luvnmarauders, Kira2667, Ljxxoo, the Ravenclaw Ninja, miss molly, Marauderlovers, ConfuzzledatLife, lilballofenergyd, IluvvRemus, ajteel0203, harry p gangstas (love the name!), nymphondratonks, CSI3Lyra.

Anonymous jane: I accepted your challenge once again! muahahahaha

I must admit, I love when people tell me their favorite quotes  

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, because if I did, I would buy that poor Trix rabbit a bowl of cereal and shoot those damn kids in the face for animal abuse. I'm in the PETA, goddammit.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Chapter 7: A Sirius Christmas Adventure 

"Deck the halls with gasoline, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! Like a match and watch it gleam fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! Listen to the teachers' screams fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! Watch the school burn down in ashes fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! Aren't you glad you played with matches fa-la-la-la-LA-LA-LA-LAAAAAA!"

"SIRIUS BLACK!"

Damn.

"Yes, my dear Minnie-flower?" I answered cheekily, batting my eyelashes at my Transfiguration professor.

Her eyes are trying to burn me alive. I can feel it.

"Are you singing a horrid Christmas knock-off carol that includes references to arsonists and burning our beloved Hogwarts to cinders?"

Huh?

I stared at her, attempting to read her mind like I read James's.

Minnie sighed in exasperation.

"Are you singing about burning down a school, Black?"

"Now, I feel we know ourselves well enough to be on a first-name basis, Minerva," I began desperately, stalling for time. "You don't hear _me _greeting Dumbledore, 'Yo Professor D'! Whaddup in the hood behind the gargoyle, word?'"

I demonstrated such a conversation by slouching my shoulders, pulling my pants low, and swinging my arms a lot, accompanied by beat boxing.

"Answer the question, Sirius," McGonagall was scarcely breathing she was so mad.

"Well, in the spirit of Christmas, which is tomorrow, and during which giving detentions is just _unholy_, then YES, you could say I have learned a verse or two of certain, uh- burning songs."

Her nostrils flared dangerously.

"I will let you off with a warning now, Mr. Black, but don't ever sing such songs again in these sacred walls."

I harrumph-ed mightily and crossed my arms, tapping my feet impatiently.

"Do you understand, _Sirius?_" Minnie snapped, her bun perched precariously on top of her head.

"Quite, thank you," I beamed, turning to leave.

She rolled her eyes.

"Where are your other Marauders on this Christmas Eve?" McGonagall asked sarcastically. "Or are they crouching behind that tapestry listening to our conversation?"

I heard the sounds of Prongs, Moony, and Wormtail sprinting down the passage full speed.

"Uh, they're at the Common room, Professor," I tried convincingly, attempting to drown out James's cries of 'SHE'S COMING!'

McGonagall raised her eyebrows dangerously high. I feared they would jump off her forehead and run after my dear friends. I clutched my book a little tighter, prepared to crush them.

"If you say so, Mr. Black."

She turned to leave, robes sweeping behind her.

"Oh, and Sirius?" Minnie gave a small smile. "Merry Christmas."

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Is there anything worse than Christmas with my family, who bought me a basilisk egg when I was seven?

Christmas with Prissy Evans.

Look at her, sitting there with all that red hair, smiling and laughing, and shoving James playfully. She's trying to steal my best friend from me. I shall have to kill her. She can't tear apart the Marauders Reborn.

I, Sirius Black, refuse to lose to a girl with freakish red hair and suck-up written across her forehead in capital letters.

Damn. Remus caught me watching her.

"Mate," Remus whispered, leaning towards me, "You might wanna dial down the stalker vibe. You've been staring at her for over an hour with a maniacal look on your face like you're about to strangle her."

Maybe because I am?

I snorted derisively and glared at Moony.

"I am not a _stalker_," I snapped. "I just don't appreciate the fact she's trying to steal James's soul in front of us on Christmas Eve. She has no right to be her, AND we have to spend two weeks with her over the Potters'!"

Moony rolled his eyes.

"She got you a present, Padfoot," he laughed. "She thinks you guys are friends."

"Why would she get me a present?" I questioned, utterly puzzled.

"Come on, Pads," Moony sighed, shaking his sandy locks. "It's Christmas; James, Peter, and I have all you gotten you one, too. I guess Lily just wanted to make up for the whole 'falling down the stairs and almost dying' thing."

Are the walls closing in or is it just me?

"You- you got me a present?" I strangled out. I could hardly breathe.

"Obviously. That's what friends do. If you don't you're horrible person."

Damn.

"Uh, uh, uh, I gotta go to bed!" I shouted hysterically, standing up without warning.

Even Wormtail stared at me like I had lost my mind.

"Sirius, it's Christmas Eve!" Peter exclaimed incredulously. "You don't go to bed at eight on Christmas Eve!"

"It's all a conspiracy theory, Wormtail," I invented wildly. "They _want_ you to go to bed late so St. Nick doesn't come."

Eh, not my best, but with potential.

Peter's eyes were wide with fear.

"Whose they?" he whispered, curling up in paranoia.

"The government!" I cried dramatically, raising my arms into the air.

Moony rolled his eyes in annoyance, but Prongs just looked at me.

"Sirius, we always stay up to midnight on Christmas Eve together," he said in disappointment. "It's tradition."

"You can't break tradition," Evans agreed from the couch.

I fear I will leap over and bite her head off.

"I just don't feel good," I lied, not meeting by best friend in the entire world's eyes.

Moony nodded in agreement.

"You look kinda freaked out and pale, like you just realized you forgot to buy us Christmas presents or something," Moony said thoughtfully. "You should rest up."

James laughed loudly.

"Like Padfoot would forget Christmas!" he chuckled.

"HA HA HA HA!" I howled hysterically. "HA! Oh James! You just kill me! Like that would ever happen!"

I then sprinted for the dormitory, leaving three stunned Marauders and Prissy Evans behind me.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"Are you ready for this? BER NA NA NA NA NA NA- damn."

So much for a covert operation. I'm singing the NBA play-off song.

"Sirius?" Amy Finnigan appeared groggily at the bottom of the stairs, her robes hanging off her shoulders and her hair a giant fro.

"Sh," I whispered, waving my arms in the air like a fairy. "It's a dream. Go back to sleep."

Amy's face lit up with excitement.

"Santa?" she exclaimed, staring at me through the darkness with growing hysteria.

Well, if good old Saint Nick is an eleven year-old wizard dressed in all black and carrying a crowbar, then yes, I am Saint Nick.

"Uh, go back to bed ho! Ho ho?" I attempted weakly, rolling my eyes on the stairs.

Amy now stared at me suspiciously.

"Santa, how come you're dressed in all black? Are you a goth?"

"Tell you what, kid, turn around and cover your eyes. I'll give you your presents now."

"Really?" Amy demanded in her fluttery voice, spinning around.

Grabbing the nearest heavy object I could find in the black Common Room, I swung wildly and smashed Amy in the head. She immediately flopped onto the couch behind her, knocked out.

"Really. That's how Santa does it," I answered, thumping my chest.

I turned to leave, then spotted the book I had hit her with. Intrigued, I leaned down and picked it up.

"Property of Remus Lupin," I murmured, staring at the back of the book. I flipped it around with a grunt, and peered down at the glossy cover.

And then burst out laughing.

_TIRED OF KNOWING JUST ONE LANGUAGE? SICK OF BEING THE ONLY ENGLISH-SPEAKER IN A ROOM? NOW YOU CAN CHANGE ALL THAT WITH THE VOX SPANGLISH DICTIONARY (SUPER-MINI EDITION!) LIGHT! PORTABLE! AND YOURS FOR $12.99!_

If that's light and portable, I'm a donkey.

…Right.

I slithered across the common room, still chuckling over Remus's obvious paranoia that he's stupid and the fact that he possessed a Spanglish 'super-mini' edition dictionary in order to seize these fears. I crawled out of the common room stealthily, and after several mishaps in several passages, I finally wiggled my way out of the dungeon passageway and outside.

The grounds were freezing, and snow was falling heavily, the wind whipping it across my face. But I had no fear. I ducked and tumbled in bushes like a psycho, humming the James Bond theme song and clutching an invisible gun.

Of course, this was all in good humor, since everyone else was curled up in bed or near fires, dreaming of the Christmas to come. THEY hadn't forgotten to buy presents for all their loved ones and now had to sneak out to Hogsmeade to buy said presents for said friends.

Damn short-term memory loss gets you every time.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Albus Dumbledore sat quietly in his office, eyes fixed on the stone hearth to his right. The entire room was full of eerie silence that even Fawkes dared not break. The flames threw bright colors across the walls, dancing in the darkness.

Three more disappearances and one strange suicide this week.

He knew something was wrong.

It was stirring in his bones, that old sense of danger and trouble coming ahead, threatening to overwhelm all Albus had ever cherished, ever worked for.

Absent-mindedly, he stroked the scar above his knee, and turned his mind past these troubling, frustrating events. It was Christmas Eve, and everyone deserved some love, some peace, on this holiday.

Albus stood up swiftly and crossed gracefully towards the old mahogany chest that lay surreptitiously in the corner of his office, tucked neatly underneath several tables and trinkets. The polished wood gleamed in the firelight, but the box was utterly forgettable amongst the wonders of his office.

Albus kneeled before the chest, and with trembling fingers pulled it open. He gazed inside the empty abyss for several moments, before finally reaching inside to grasp the only object it contained: a sprig of mistletoe, old and stiff, forgotten from a time long past.

_"Albus, it's Christmas! Stop all your experiments for just one day and enjoy yourself!" _

_"Gellert, I can't stop experimenting. That's ludicrous, and we've gotten so far with our work! Besides, it's only Christmas Eve, Grindelwald."_

_"Relax and live a little bit. We can't all be uptight at all times. Besides, Christmas Eve is better than day. It's more…magical." The look on his face made you shiver, the intensity of his eyes overwhelming. _

_"What's in your hand, Gellert?" _

_"Oh, just your present," he responded airily, waving his arms in dismiss. Your heart pounded harder. _

_"You got me a present?" _

_"Nothing big. Happy Christmas!" _

_He had handed you a sprig of mistletoe, freshly picked and vibrantly red and green. It trembled in your palm. _

_"Mistletoe?" _

_"EVERLASTING mistletoe. Never grows old, and you just have to think of your one true love to make it bloom again." His face burned red with embarrassment, and you smiled._

_"How am I to repay you, Gellert? I didn't get you anything." _

_He had leaned closer, his breath hot on your face. _

_"You know how." _

The tears burned viciously in the corner of his eyes, and Albus stood up abruptly, the mistletoe clenched between his fingers. It bloomed rapidly, berries popping out of thin air and green leaves tangling in his robes.

"I do know how," Albus whispered, his eyes glimmering. "And I know how to spread it."

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"I got this icebox where my heart used to be, I got this icebox where my heart used to be, I'm so cold, I'm so cold," I sang painfully, clambering less than gracefully through the knee-deep snow. I had already turned around to go home twice, but I had somehow talked myself out of it both times.

Or it was the little Christmas fairy that was floating above my head, urging me on.

"You can do it, Sirius!" she squeaked, wings fluttering madly as she flew through the snow. "Just imagine all the cakes!"

The fairy then transformed into a fruitcake and plopped into the snow like a stone.

Call me crazy, but I think I'm hallucinating just a little bit.

I stared at the fairy-cake in the snow, obviously confused. But then I straightened up like a soldier and marched on towards the now visible village.

"I will do it, fairy-cake!" I howled over the wind. "I'll never forget you!"

Of course, she was in cake form then, so she didn't answer.

It seemed like hours before I finally tramped over the stonewall of Hogsmeade, but the warm shops and cheery little carolers lifted my spirit immediately.

My pockets jangled with coins, and I veered towards the nearest shop, which read "Wizardly Wares and Muggle Materials".

The bells trilled as I walked in, and I was once again reminded with anguish of fairy-cake, my hallucination-induced friend buried in the snow. I clutched my heart dramatically, and gazed around the store.

There were towering rows of an array of items, piled precariously upon shelves and each other. I feared an avalanche.

Light music filled the shop, and I glanced towards the back, where someone who looked suspiciously like Peter had their back turned to me.

PETER HAS A SECRET LIFE!

I stampeded down the rows of shelves, aiming for Peter. I swung him around wildly, barely avoiding a stack of trolls' feet umbrella stands, and glared at him.

Except, you know, it wasn't Peter.

It was kind of a girl.

"Uh, hi," I stuttered, lost for words. I just attempted to assassinate an innocent girl.

I _am_ turning into my mother.

She blushed, her long blonde hair shielding her face. How did I miss that?

Maybe because she looked freakishly like Peter.

I mean, sure she was a girl, but she was short and baby-faced with blue eyes. She was also rather chubby, and had the same look Peter had: that low self-esteem sadness that we were steadily erasing from him.

"Hi," she answered quietly, avoiding eye contact. I flipped my luscious locks arrogantly, remembering that I was like James: gorgeous and confident and an entirely different breed of person.

"I'm Sirius," I mentioned smoothly, gazing around the store. "What are you doing here at 11:30 on Christmas Eve?"

She raised her eyebrows in annoyance, and I smiled cheekily.

"This is my father's shop, and I have the night shift. And I was minding my own business, until a little crazy dressed in all black decided to attack me."

So MAYBE a _little _different than Wormtail.

"I thought you were someone I knew," I replied in irritation.

"So you tackle everyone you know? I'm Molly, by the way. Molly Magner."

"Uh, I'd tell you my last name, but then you'd probably hate me."

"All right then. What are you doing here at 11:30 on Christmas Eve?"

Right.

"Uh, I kind of forgot to get presents for all of my friends," I answered sheepishly.

Molly nodded, her blue eyes twinkling.

"Happens a lot. Whom are you shopping for?"

"Three boys and a girl," I sighed, hating myself for getting Evans something.

Molly's face fell slightly at the word 'girl', but she nodded cheerily.

"This first boy," she continued, "What's he like?"

I thought of James, his messy black hair and mischievous eyes, his bravery and confidence and sheer brilliance.

"Amazing," I admitted, looking around the cluttered shop and trying to imagine what James would ever like here. "He's my best friend in the entire world, and he's simply amazing."

She nodded thoughtfully in understanding, and headed down the rows.

"So how old are you?" I asked, jogging to keep up with her as she flew past shelves of everything I've ever seen.

"Twelve."

"Why aren't you at Hogwarts?" I questioned, following her underneath a canopy of woven butterflies, which I was positive neither James, Remus, Peter, or Evans would ever want.

Molly didn't meet my eyes as she scanned the shelves above us.

"I'm a Squib," she answered softly.

I didn't answer. I didn't have one to give.

"But I do have a knack for always picking out the perfect gifts for anyone," she said determinedly, snatching a small velvet box off a nearby shelf. "This best friend, is he a leader?"

I grinned.

"Very."

"Then this is perfect for him."

Molly handed me the box, and I opened it swiftly, gazing inside.

It was a golden watch, planets and stars swirling across the face. The entire heavens seemed to glitter up at me, and the band felt smooth and metallic beneath my fingers.

"It's perfect," I breathed.

It was something a hero would wear. It was something James would wear.

I flipped the case over carefully, and raised my eyebrows incredulously at the price.

Molly was smirking.

"I'm guessing you came from an extremely aristocratic, pure-blooded family of dark magic with never-ending bank accounts, and that the inexpensiveness of this watch is a little hard to believe for you."

"Just a little bit, yeah," I answered, smiling slightly. "Only 75 Galleons? Is it used or something?"

Molly laughed.

"In most parts of the universe, Sirius, that watch is considered ridiculously expensive."

I snapped the box shut and rolled my eyes in irritation.

"Onward," I snapped, waving my hand at Molly.

She blushed.

"Right, so, the second boy: what's he like?"

I thought of Remus's bright gray eyes and laughed.

"Smart," I answered truthfully. "And always self-righteous, and sensible, and—"

"Is he tall or short?" Molly interrupted.

"Tall," I said immediately, thinking of his mile-long, gangly legs.

"Right."

And she was off, weaving between shelves like a pro, and I chased after her, trying to avoid the cascade of heavy objects that rained down on me when I bumped into them.

"Why did you put the heavy objects up top?" I howled, staring at the washing machine that had missed my head by inches.

"Here."

She shoved (what else?) a book at me.

I stared down at the glossy cover and flipped intently through the pages.

"A Midsummer's Night Dream," I read dramatically, waving my arms. "By William Shakespeare."

Molly rolled her eyes.

"Something you've never read?" she asked, eyes dancing inside her chubby cheeks.

"Uh, can't say that I have, no."

"Then he'll love it."

Hmph. How very rude.

"So," Molly continued casually, stroking the shelf behind her, "How old are you?"

"Twelve," I replied indifferently, gazing around. Lying has never fazed me.

"Huh," she seemed to be thinking for several moments, and suddenly blurted, "Do you like Hogwarts?"

This I couldn't lie about.

"It's wonderful," I confessed, stars in my eyes. "I room with my three best friends and there's never a moment when I'm bored."

Molly fell silent, twirling her long hair. Now that I look at her, she looks less and less like Peter.

"So," I began, awkwardly changing the subject, "Will my friend like this?"

She snapped out of her trance.

"Of course," answered Molly arrogantly. "Now, you're third friend?"

"He's short, and he's kind of quiet and a follower. But he has loads of potential to be so much more," I said proudly.

Because I was proud of Peter. He had grown so much since we met him, transformed from the kid who hid from Jacob to the kid who would knock Jacob out.

At least I hope so.

Without a word, Molly drifted off, and I forced my attention back to the determined Squib, barred from Hogwarts and another family outcast, with growing admiration.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

He paced.

He does that quite often, these days.

Albus glanced over at the mistletoe firmly placed on his desk still sprouting and blooming.

"I have to spread the love tonight," he muttered, voice cracking. "It's my duty; I gave mine up, and now I have to do this."

Albus slowed and approached the mistletoe, smiling bitterly.

"To everyone who needs a little love tonight, a little extra push," he waved his wand sadly.

Unbeknownst to the sleeping students, mistletoe sprouted up over the school, in dorms and classrooms, Great Halls and hallways.

One determined branch also sprouted up in Hogsmeade.

Albus stared down at the emptiness of his desk, where his lover's last memory (other than the scar) had stood. Slowly, he circled his chair, sat down, and released one anguished sob into the still night.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"Are you sure he's going to like this?" I asked once again, doubtful.

"You SAID he liked Full Metal Panic manga books," Molly snapped irritably. "Just get him a few!"

"Eh, whatever," I finally ceded, tossing the books atop my growing pile.

"Good."

Molly seemed to take several steadying breaths before asking carefully, "And this girl? What's she like?"

I groaned in misery.

"She's a nightmare! She's bossy and annoying and self-righteous and a suck-up, and she has bright red hair. AND she's trying to steal my best friend from me," I growled, all the built-up emotions tumbling out with acid words.

She brightened visibly.

"Let me guess: your leader best friend, right?"

"Exactly!"

"She'll be hard to shop for, then," Molly sighed, patting her hair. "And it's almost 12:30, so I'm guessing you need to get back to school soon."

"Good guess. Can't I just get her this?"

I held up a giant metal decoration that looked suspiciously like an egg.

"You can't get her a Russian Faberge crystal egg, Sirius."

HA! It is an egg.

"Why not?" I moaned pleadingly, staring at her through heavily lashed puppy-dog eyes.

"Because who wants an egg for Christmas?" Molly snapped, glaring at me.

"I got a basilisk egg for Christmas, once," I reminisced dreamily.

She snorted in horror and shock.

"Sorry, but we don't sell those here. Follow me."

Evans took her much longer. I followed Molly obediently, drifting after her through the towering shelves and rows. She walked absent-mindedly, pausing to stroke something, or pick another up.

I was beginning to get seriously annoyed and look for more crystal eggs when she stopped in her tracks. The light music in the background engulfed us.

"Perfect," she whispered, almost to herself.

"What?" I snapped.

Molly rummaged for a moment upon the shelf, and finally pulled off a pair of odd-looking shoes. Her bright, blue eyes met my own.

"Is she a Muggle?" she murmured, soft as a prayer.

"Yes."

"Then she'll love them."

I stared down at the pink, soft material. Carefully, I squeezed the end of the shoe. It was as hard as steel.

"What are they, Magner?" I asked in awe.

"Pointe shoes," she answered softly, as if remembering a far-off dream. Noting my confused expression, she added, "For ballet."

BALLET?

I snorted derisively.

"Ballet? I've heard of that poppycock. Muggles love the crap. Why would Evans ever be interested in ballet?"

"Because," Molly said sharply.

She whirled to face me, and I saw the girl I had first attacked: chubby and blonde and lost.

"They make any girl feel lovely and graceful, like a ballerina."

She met my eyes.

"And every girl wants to feel beautiful."

It seemed the song floating through the air overwhelmed us in those few, silent moments.

Big girls you are beautiful  
Oh you are beautiful

I leaned forward, my heart pounding, and kissed Molly Magner right on the lips.

The assorted presents exploded on the ground, but neither of us noticed.

We didn't notice one, long mistletoe bud snaking down the ceiling, either.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I stumbled out the door ten minutes later, my black face paint beginning to flake off. Snow was falling again, but I felt invincible.

"Sirius?"

I turned in mid-step to look at Molly. Her hair gleamed in the streetlights, and her eyes sparkled. She looked like an angel.

"I'll see you again, right?"

I nodded.

"Sure. See you around, Magner."

I didn't bother looking back, because I knew she didn't. We both knew I was lying.

I glanced down at my black sack, full of perfectly, expertly wrapped presents. Instead of accomplishment at my mission complete, I felt sick, like I had just left my favorite memory.

I stopped in my tracks, and stared at the cramped shop, tucked into a near invisible corner of Hogsmeade, just to make sure it hadn't disappeared.

It hadn't.

I turned and strolled into the night, the warmth returning to my cheeks.

The fairy-cake zoomed towards me through the night, wobbling on crutches.

"Hurry, Sirius! It's 3:30 in the morning!"

Damn.

I then took off running, and left Hogsmeade behind for the next two years, save some illegal trip for firewhiskey and the likes.

Though I never returned to that shop.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I crept into our dormitory, passing Amy's lifeless body and the Spanglish bible. Carefully, I crouched before the end of each four-poster and placed their presents.

HA! I'm not a horrible person, after all.

Although Saint Nick's probably not very happy with me for posing as him in goth-form and knocking out an innocent girl.

Eh, oh well.

I stared into the depths of the now empty sack, and began to close it. But the crinkle of paper met my ears, and I plunged my hand inside.

_Sirius, _

_Found this in the shop. Happy Christmas, Molly. _

I stared down at the sprig of mistletoe, shriveled and old in my hand. In the beds next to me, Remus groaned in his sleep. James tossed lightly in his bed.

The mistletoe began to bloom double in my hand.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Like it? Hate it? Love it? Adore it? Get the point yet?

The more reviews I get the faster I update, so review!

I must admit, I love when people tell me their favorite quotes 

Haha. I'M ON SPRING BREAK, AND I HOPE I'LL UPDATE MORE OFTEN, SO REVIEW!

**IF ANYONE HAS IDEAS ABOUT FUTURE CHAPTERS LET ME KNOW!**

**-**danielle♠♣


	10. A Remusish Eve

HA! I DID IT AGAIN!

I found very quickly that –although I still love you, Padfoot- Moony is far easier to write from, and I looooooooved writing this chapter. You can definitely expect more from dear Remus's POV in the coming chapters.

**Padfoot: (sniffles) I CAN JUST DIE NOW!**

**Moony: Victory. Word. **

**(Padfoot- goes and drowns himself in peanut butter)**

Uh, right. Anyway, I was shocked at the number of reviews the last chapter got! I like, fell out of my chair. And thus my family got involved…Ahem. Right. So here's another WTDW chapter for you! Also, it's not as Christmas as I originally planned.

**Thanks to all my reviewers: **Angel-of-Vampires (ha, I thanked you first again)Nymphondratonks, lily, emma, IluvvRemus, Crayon-Lover, TheRavenclawNinja, hi, jagrfkjhduigadrs, Mary Gooby, Kira2667, justthegirl, Jess.91, Tang Si Ming-Yue, The Queen of Confusion, Cinderella912, soffmcsoff, books4evah, saragirl47, Vampire Scooby, PhantomoftheBasket, Karin-chan9743, IAMaMUDBLOOD, Marauderlovers, mrs. Ronald bilius Weasley, Shubie, asdef, Apostle1Apostle2, Paige, CSI3Lyra and:

**Tyem Marodyor**: Now that I'm updating again, we can continue our random conversations about Bird! YAY! Haha.

**Anonymous Jane**: I, OF COURSE, accepted your challenge. It's amazing, because it helps me figure out situations to write about, and thus, entire chapters form from five simple objects. THANK YOU.

**Disclaimer:** I own a hockey stick, a lacrosse stick, a field hockey stick, and a lot of t-shirts. I do not, unfortunately, own Harry Potter. Damn.

Sirius: AND YOU DON'T OWN ME, EITHER! YOU CAN'T BELITTLE ME, AND GIVE ME LOW SELF-CONFIDENCE! MUAHAHAHA!

Actually, you'll find I can do that.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"Hey, Moony! Hey, hey, hey! No, seriously, look this time! Me and James have something REALLY important to show you! No! No, seriously! LOOK UP! Hey! Hey you! Hey you with the book! Moony!"

"WHAT?"

I finally threw my book upwards into the air with a mighty force, breathing heavily, and turned to glare at James and Sirius.

They had identical, matching grins on and were both sporting Bertie Bott's beans all over their faces.

"Get it? We're pimply! Ha, do you get it?" Sirius guffawed, high fiving Prongs beside him.

Idiots. Pure imbeciles.

"Very funny, mates," I answered wearily, sliding off my seat to collect my book. "Almost as funny as when you were the Cookie Monster TWO MINUTES AGO!"

Prongs gaped at me in shock. A large green jellybean on the tip of his nose fell off with a squelching noise.

"Why are you so miserable?" he demanded, as Padfoot and Wormtail slowly began to pick the jellybeans off his face and eat them. "It's Christmas Break! We have two weeks of freedom and parties lined up! AND we get presents," he added smugly.

I rolled my eyes.

"You and Sirius get presents. Now, excuse me, I must keep my brain from rotting out of my skull."

Peter gave a high-pitched, nervous laugh and stared at me in terror.

"No, Pete, your brain is not going to rot out if you only read comic books," I amended, slumping back across my seat, careful not to sit on Lily's hair. She was passed out next to me, her hair cascading everywhere and getting on everything.

Girls.

"What are you reading, anyway?" James asked curiously, his watch glinting on his wrist as fields and mountains whizzed past. Sirius spotted it and glowed with pride at his superior shopping abilities.

"A Midsummer's Night Dream," I admitted grudgingly, reddening under Sirius's smirk.

"MY present, of course," he added airily.

Prongs rolled his eyes and elbowed Padfoot in the gut, annoyed.

"Yes, you have reminded us at every opportune moment," he growled, hair standing on end.

He looked rather like an electrocuted Newfoundland.

Sirius snickered.

"Your hair looks funny, mate."

"It's all the static electricity in this train!" Prongs wailed, flailing about in panic and attempting to flatten his hair.

"I'm sure it is, James," Wormtail said kindly, looking much like a deformed Chihuahua with his straight, blonde hair.

We were all saved from Prongs possibly strangling Peter with the arrival of the Trolley Woman, or Gladys, as Padfoot had named her.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Sirius aimed his most charming smile at her.

"What you really mean is, will I have anything else to eat for my fat self after you order?" Sirius corrected.

I aimed my most painful kick at his stomach.

"Three of everything, I believe, is what he meant," I gasped, as Sirius had grabbed my foot and was now twisting it in an attempt to drop me.

Trolley Lady stared at us uncertainly, but by then Peter had started throwing shoes and the like at us, and James was muttering to himself in embarrassment.

"I do apologize for them, and please, three of everything. We have a rather long trip, I'm afraid," Lily smiled, straightening up off of the plushy seat.

She, too, looked electrocuted from all the static in the air.

Sirius scowled and attempted to chuck his shoe at her, which, unfortunately, was still on his foot, and just succeeded in toppling me to the ground and on top of a pile of Exploding Snap.

"OW! OW! OW!" I howled, scrambling to my feet and desperately beating off the tiny flames.

"Stop, drop, and roll!" Peter squeaked, from where he was hiding behind James.

"Get the bloody hell out of there!" James bellowed, clearly frightened to find himself sitting on Wormtail.

I had started stopping, dropping, and rolling, but only succeeded on trampling over more cards.

"HELP ME! I'M DYING!" I shrieked, clawing at the windowsill in a last crusade to jump out the window and escape the maniacs.

Padfoot, however, did not see this as an opportunity to let me free. No, instead, he leapt terrifically off his own train seat and plummeted on to me.

"HANG ON, MOONY! I'M COMING!" Sirius called, giving a war cry.

"No, no, no, no—"

He landed like a stack of bricks on top of me.

And promptly lit on fire.

"OW! OW! What the bloody hell did I just do that for?" Sirius moaned, shaking me roughly.

There's friendship, for you.

This would have continued for at least another half hour, but Lily Evans arrived from where we didn't even know she left, hauling a large, red tank with a long nuzzle.

"Oh, Merlin."

She sprayed us down calmly, walking around us in a small circle, making sure not to miss.

No. She sprayed everything. Her aim leaves something to be desired.

"It's up my nose!" I cried nasally, snorting and snuffling.

"MY EYE!" James howled from his seat, removing his glasses and hopping in place.

"I was nice and safe behind Prongs," Peter said happily.

"WILL YOU GET THE BLOODY HELL OUT OF THERE?"

"Well, boys," Lily said matter-of-factly, "I think we learned our lesson."

We all stared at her like she was crazy.

"Hey, where's Gladys?" Sirius asked in disappointment, eyeing around the tiny room. The trolley lay abandoned against the wall.

"She said we could have it," Prongs recalled, reaching over and helping himself to a platter of Cauldron Cakes. "Well, done, Pads."

Sirius stood up and bowed.

"I did my best," he admonished, snatching a Pumpkin Pasty and tearing the packaging off with his teeth. "It was all Moony, really."

I hate people, sometimes.

I crawled onto my seat, and promptly curled up in exhaustion.

"Where's Wormtail?" Prongs asked suspiciously, looking around for him.

"Right here," he answered glumly from the floor. He had fallen down in the fray after leaving his safe haven behind James.

James looked relieved and sat down with a thump.

"How did you arrange this, anyway?" Lily asked, helping herself to a handful of Drooble's. "The train ride, I mean. Everyone else had to leave two weeks ago."

James grinned wickedly, his hair crackling.

"Let's just say the Dorea and Charlus Potter International Library will be opening very soon in twenty-seven different countries."

"Good old Dad will get us anything," Sirius sighed cheerily, rubbing his stomach like a puppy and helping himself to another cookie.

"Don't you ever get full?" I sighed in irritation.

Sirius looked affronted.

"I'm a growing boy, Remus! I need nourishment!"

Dear Merlin, this is going to be a long two weeks.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

When the train finally deposited us an hour later in front of a long, winding road, I had to admit I was a little frightened. If James was anything to go by, I wasn't so sure I wanted to meet his relatives. Especially adult ones.

"Are you monologue-ing in your head again, mate?" James sighed, shaking his head, which had notably deflated since leaving the static electricity.

"No," I answered defensively and convincingly.

"He means yes, really," Sirius stage whispered.

"Don't be mean!" Lily admonished, sitting primly on her suitcase.

Sirius growled at her and began to scribble madly on his hand.

"What are you writing?" I asked curiously, leaning forward to snatch his hand.

"Nothing!" he squeaked in a high-pitched voice, pocketing his hand swiftly. "I'm not writing 'die, Evans, die' on my hand one hundred and twenty-one times, or anything," he added in a strangled voice.

We all stared at him uncertainly, but I became rather distracted as the ground began to tremble and shake underneath us. Lily screamed. Peter cowered behind James. I felt my Vertigo kick in. Sirius and James played patty cake, clearly bored and used to whatever was happening.

The ground swirled underneath us, and without warning we popped out of the air and in front of an enormous manor house. Sirius sighed happily, and promptly began to skip towards the massive structure, failing to notice Lily, Peter, and I prostrate in the muddy road.

James laughed loudly and ran after his best friend, also leaving us stunned and confused on the ground.

"It's my home, you know!" he bellowed, catching Sirius by his elbow and pulling him into a headlock. "You have your own!"

Even in a stranglehold with his heavily mussed hair in his face, he managed to snort.

"Yeah, my home's great! At least your parental units don't buy you illegal dark magical creatures as presents and expect you to actually hatch it!"

"Man, you got to get over that," Prongs stated dramatically, and then proceeded to drag Padfoot, in a headlock, towards the great stone stairs of Potter Manor.

Leaving Peter, Lily, and I with their suitcases in the dirt.

As if reading my mind, James turned to look at us, nearly sending Padfoot tumbling down the stairs and to his untimely death.

"Leave the suitcases!" he called, now struggling against Sirius's parade of swears and scratches. "The house-elves will get them!"

Slowly, I rose to my feet, extending a hand down to help Lily up, as well.

"Thanks, mate," Wormtail sighed, snatching my hand and heaving himself to his feet.

I stared at him and shoved him back down on the ground.

"Not you!" I snapped. "Lily!"

She beamed gratefully and stumbled to her feet, clearly in as much awe as Potter Manor as I was.

"It's so pretty," she murmured, and I couldn't help but agree.

We started up the large stairs, marveling over the age and splendor of James's home.

"Hey!" squeaked Peter, still on the ground. "I need help! Remus! Can you get me out of the rosebushes?"

Sometimes, you can just have too much of Wormtail.

I pretended to be deaf.

"Sirius seems pretty happy to be here," I commented.

As if on cue, Sirius shrieked, "MUM! I'VE MISSED YOU!"

Lily laughed lightly.

"Well, I guess Sirius hasn't had such a great family. I guess I can't really relate to that, but I have a friend who can."

"Who?" I asked immediately. Having grown up with four aunts and roomed with my fellow Marauders, I had become a gossiper.

"You know him. But I know Se- I mean my friend, isn't going to be very happy when he finds I spent Christmas here," she stammered, reddening visibly. "Which reminds me, isn't it strange that there's no snow anywhere here, and it's positively a blizzard in the rest of England?"

"It's enchanted," a deep voice answered from behind us, causing Lily to let out a soft scream and for me to jump about a foot. "So we can enjoy the grounds all year round, of course."

A tall, slender man with bright, blue eyes and messy black hair beginning to gray at the temples regarded us with amusement, his skinny face pulled into a smile.

"You must be James's friends," he greeted, cordially bowing, making Lily giggle. "I'm Charlus, James's father."

"DAD!"

Sirius appeared out of nowhere like a bolt of lightning and threw himself on Mr. Potter like an overeager child.

Mr. Potter let out a rumbling laugh and pulled Sirius into a hug.

"I'm also, apparently, Sirius's father, now too," he added.

Sirius squirmed in his arms and stuck his tongue out at him.

"I've _told _you," he retorted childishly. "I'm a Potter born into a Black family, and eventually, you're just going to have to adopt me."

"Merlin knows that day will hopefully always remain in the future," I grinned, earning a scowl from Sirius-the-child. "I'm Remus Lupin, by the way."

Mr. Potter nodded gravely, releasing Sirius to shake my hand. "I know your father. Excellent man, really. And your mother's quite darling."

I winced inwardly at the mention of my father. My father, who can't even look me in the eye, who caused my- well, you know.

"I'm Lily Evans," Lily, too, extended our hand.

"Pleasure!" Mr. Potter enthused, looking quite cheerful in his bright red dress robes.

"Charlus!"

James, too, rounded the corner like a madman and hugged his father.

Mr. Potter's face visibly lit up at the sight of his raven-haired son.

"James, m'boy! I heard Sirius is part of the family now!"

Even with his face pressed into his father's collar I knew he was rolling his eyes.

"He's always been part of the family, Charlus."

James grinned over at Lily and me.

"I see you've met Evans and Moony," he cackled wickedly, sharing a look with Padfoot.

"Moony?" Mr. Potter questioned.

But before I could get into the whole technical lingo of our nicknames, a tall, graceful woman dressed in flowing ivy stepped from around the corner, her blonde hair pulled back regally into a bun.

"Charlus? Are you home?"

"MUM!" Sirius shrieked, running over to hug her again. "I've missed you!"

"Yes, five minutes without me can do that to people," she responded dryly, ruffling Padfoot's hair.

"Dorea, I would like you to meet Remus, Lily, and—wait, where's Wormtail?" James demanded.

"Wormtail?" Mr. Potter repeated in much the same manner as his earlier question.

"Uh, Peter, our other friend," Prongs amended quickly. "Where?"

"Uh, we kinda left him out with the suitcases," I answered, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment.

Mrs. Potter seemed unperturbed.

"The house elves most likely took him in with the luggage, then," she said serenely, brushing invisible lint off her dress. "They'll finish scanning him and realize he's not luggage within the hour."

Right.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"So, my dears, how is Hogwarts?" Mrs. Potter asked energetically, bouncing around the parlor like an over-excited puppy. "Do you like it? How are your classes? Are they hard? Do use the Cloak, darling? Sirius, are you eating enough? You look rather skinny. Remus, you're mother is always fretting about you. Are you quite liking the library? She said you would. Do you like Minerva? She makes such a great Head of House, though I always hoped for a Ravenclaw, of course. So?"

I feared she was going to knock something over, as she swung from side-to-side, pacing much like James.

"Dorea!" James laughed. "Let's actually talk and not get quizzed."

"Yes, Mum," Sirius added petulantly from across the room from a pile of cushions. "Don't give yourself a heart attack."

I couldn't help but think how adorable Sirius and James were with their parents, James calling his actual parents their first names, and Sirius calling them Mum and Dad, as if they were his own.

Mrs. Potter smiled radiantly, but before she could hammer us some more, Peter burst in, looking rather confused and dizzy.

"Wormtail!" James greeted. "How was the conveyer belt?"

"Luggage is done," Peter slurred out. "Pretty colors, Prongs."

And he slumped to the floor.

"Prongs?" Mr. Potter questioned much in the same way as his other two yet to be answered questions.

"Poor child," Mrs. Potter said sympathetically, bending down to feel Peter's temperature. "Some can get very dizzy on the conveyer belt."

Or he just found the firewhiskey. Either one works.

"Why don't we unpack?" I suggested hastily, grabbing Peter by his arm and dragging him to his feet. "Padfoot, can you show us where the rooms are?"

"Padfoot?" Mr. Potter questioned once more, eyebrows raised.

"Long story."

"One that will be told, James," Mr. Potter said sternly.

"Right, right, Charlus, once we get situated," James said absent-mindedly, hurrying towards the parlor doors.

Merlin knows what he's thinking.

"James, you and Sirius are in the French Riviera suite!" Mrs. Potter called. "And tell Remus and Peter they're in the Indonesian Tea suite! Lily, darling, you'll have to make due with the Austrian Crystal suite!"

Make due? Where am I?

I deposited Peter in the room James indicated, hardly glancing about lest I faint.

Wormtail let out a moan, and, as I suspected, a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey tumbled out of his jeans.

"Sleep it off, little alcoholic," I whispered, petting his head.

I returned to the hallway just in time to hear Lily say, "James? Can you help me set up my things?"

Sirius barked angrily and glared at her, but James smiled brightly.

"Sure, Evans—I mean Lily. Hang on."

Padfoot's eyes sparked with fury, and I knew what I had to do.

"Actually, Prongs, why don't you and Pads unpack? Pete needs to sleep it off, and I don't want to disturb him. I'll help Lily set up."

James's face fell.

"Right. Good idea, Moons."

I snatched Lily's elbow and steered her into the Crystal suite, barely marveling over the walls of crystals glittering above, and the fact that the entire floor was enchanted to look like water.

"Look, Lily, we need to talk," I said abruptly, sitting on her massive couch in the parlor of the suite.

She looked stunned- whether at the room or me- and slowly started towards me.

"What's bothering you, Remus?" she asked carefully.

"Look, Lily, I know you like James. But here's the thing: Sirius loves James. He's never, ever betrayed him, and never would. He's loyal, and he always wants James around. And you ruin his ideal world."

Lily's lip jutted out immediately and her green eyes narrowed.

"So? Black can deal. It's not like I'm going to move to a different continent with him."

I sighed and ran my fingers heavily through my hair, gesturing for her to sit next to me.

"I assure you if you even tried to do that, Lily, Sirius would be hiding in your trunks ready to strangle you at the first available moment."

"What are you trying to say?" Evans demanded fiercely.

"That if James has to choose between you and Sirius, ten times out of ten, he will choose Sirius. Just keep that in mind."

I said it bluntly, forcefully, and I felt terrible, but I knew it was necessary.

"I didn't know it was that obvious," Lily said softly, looking away.

"Well, Peter lives on the moon and is addicted to alcohol, so he doesn't notice anything. James is James, and is thus oblivious to the universe. But Sirius knows, and Sirius won't be afraid to do anything to turn James and everyone else against you. Or trick James into doing something stupid. Or risk James's anger to get rid of you. Or—"

"I get it."

She looked embarrassed and thoughtful.

"I guess I did kind of rush into this whole "friendship" thing fast. One minute I totally hated your guts and the next I'm spending Christmas break at Potter Manor. Maybe I should just sort of, I don't know, back off. He can be really arrogant sometimes."

I had the terrible feeling I had just started a very bad thing that would last for years.

"But, you know, he's still really cool," I said desperately, clutching at strings.

"And you know what, you guys did almost kill me," she muttered, frowning. "I mean, what's wrong with me?"

Damn.

"But he's still really great!" I shouted hysterically.

Evans eyed me like I was insane.

"Yeah, I guess. But I swear to Merlin, Mrs. Potter must have been a cheerleader or something, she's just so peppy."

"A cheerleader? Like with pom poms?"

Without warning, the doors to the suite burst open with an audible bang and Mrs. Potter stood there, beaming.

"Who needs pom poms? Remus? Do you need pom poms?" She was bubbling with excitement.

"No, Mrs. Potter, I'm fine, really," I began hastily, jumping off the couch.

But I was too late. She had already whisked a pair out of thin air, her wand tucked neatly in her sleeve. She threw them at me.

"Go GRYFFINDOR!"

Of course the pom poms would be red and gold.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I rounded the corner from Lily's suite to find Sirius crouched on the top stair, clinging to the railing and eavesdropping.

"Mate?" I whispered coming nearer.

He grinned up at me and pressed his fingers to his lips. Without warning, he snatched my leg and pulled me face first on the carpet next to him.

"James is explaining our nicknames to our parents," he said wickedly.

I widened my eyes in horror.

"No!"

The sounds of James desperately lying bubbled up the stairwell.

"And the first time we saw Remus, the moon was out, so we, uh, named him Moony, and Padfoot because the…um, the- the soles of his feet are so thick they look like pads!"

Utter silence.

"And Wormtail?" Mr. Potter pressed.

James sounded irritated now.

"We thought he had a tail the first time we saw him, because he was lying really weird on his bed," he snapped.

Sirius nodded approval.

"That one was pretty good compared to the other two. He might get out of this alive," Padfoot commented.

"What about Prongs, dear? Why do they call you Prongs?" Mrs. Potter's lofty voice floated up the steps.

Damn. There's no way out of this one.

"Well, uh, uh, um," James began creatively, "My favorite animal is a stag, so they, uh, call me Prongs! Ha, ha, ha, ha, uh, can I leave now?"

Padfoot turned to glare at me.

"How's Evans?" he spat.

"Is that rhetorical?" I questioned, scratching my nose.

Sirius stared at me. Big words aren't exactly his forte.

"Uh, good?"

He smiled evilly.

"For now," he said darkly, rubbing his hands together. "I'll get rid of little Prissy very soon."

Damn psychotic friends will get you every time.

"What are you going to do, Sirius?" I said sharply.

"Oh nothing," he said innocently. "I don't have a secret plan or anything. Not that I'd tell you about it anyway. Not that I have one in my room or anything. So don't look there," he added unconvincingly. "Because, uh, I have magical termites. They're the size of a hippogriff. And they're vicious. So don't go in there."

I raised my eyebrows and continued to stare at him.

"OY! SIRIUS! COME OPEN YOUR PRESENTS!"

Padfoot leapt to his feet and bounded down the stairs.

"Duty calls!"

Damn.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"Moony, why are we breaking into James and Sirius's room?" Peter asked me groggily, swaying on his feet.

"I told you not to ask questions!" I snapped, dragging my rope behind me.

"Why do you have a rope?"

"In case we have to escape out a window, Wormtail."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense, sort of."

I rolled my eyes and opened the door quietly into the French suite. All the lights were off. Slowly, I stepped into the parlor, prepared to pepper spray anything that moved.

"Mate? There's no one in here," Peter whispered from behind me.

Stupid drunk. He ruins all my James Bond moments.

I stared around the parlor. The suite was enormous, stretching throughout the manor. It would be impossible to find Sirius's room on our own.

"Any idea where it is, Petey?"

"Third door on the right."

Huh?

I whirled around to stare at Peter, but he was staring at a 'YOU ARE HERE' map posted on the wall.

Well then.

I crept down the hallway and towards Sirius's room. I reached the doorknob.

"You ready?" I whispered dramatically to Peter.

He groaned and covered his ears.

I'll take that as a yes.

I swung the door open bravely and charged into the room, gagging on the scent of cologne and chocolate. I stumbled. NO! DEFEAT!

Peter strolled in, quite hung over and slightly drunk, and gazed about the bedroom, obviously confused.

"How'd I get here?" he panicked. "Moony? Why are we here?"

"We're looking for evidence, Wormtail," I sighed. "Just look around for anything suspicious."

"Oh. Well, that looks pretty suspicious to me."

I whirled around to find Peter pointing at a hair blow dryer. A pink one.

Torture device?!

"I don't think that's his," I said quickly, staring at it in disgust.

"It has his initials on it," Peter insisted.

"You're drunk!" I bellowed, deranged. "Just keep looking."

"Okay. I'm drunk. But I'm not hallucinating. What's this?"

Wormtail chucked a book at me. Bad enough that Padfoot was reading. But this?

I mouthed wordlessly down at the cover before finally choking out, "Gone with the Wind? He's reading 'Gone With the Wind'?"

Peter shrugged.

"Maybe he's trying to get in touch with his feminine side so he can better understand Lily."

Merlin, I hope so.

"Sirius may have something he will want to admit to us in coming years."

"Are you psychic?"

"No, Wormtail. I can just put two and two together."

"But, there are only two things here. So you'd only GET two. And besides, I can add two and two together. It's not that hard. It's FOUR."

"Peter?"

"Yep?"

"Unless you want me to hit you very hard and shake what little common sense you have left out the window, I'd shut up."

Wormtail seemed to understand that.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I hate parties. In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm rather nonsocial.

"Boys! Do you have your dress robes on?" Mrs. Potter sang through the door.

Which was why the coming hours were going to be a nightmare.

James strutted out of his bathroom, resplendent in blue silk robes sewn with glittering sapphires.

"Dorea! Must you always get me robes in the Ravenclaw colors?" he howled through the double doors of the French suite.

There was some muffled coughing and then a faint "yes."

I myself had chocolate velvet robes on, and was currently staring in shock at the price tag.

"Who pays 200 galleons on someone she just met?" I whispered in horror.

"At least yours aren't bright green," Wormtail answered glumly, fidgeting in his tight-fitting bottle-green robes.

"Sirius?" James wandered over and pounded on the closet door. "We got to go, mate! Come out!"

"…No."

"Why not?" James stamped his foot in irritation.

"I look like a choir boy."

I choked on air.

"No you don't," Prongs began soothingly, smacking me off the head with one hand. "You look very handsome. Now come out."

There was much shuffling and harrumphs, and finally, Padfoot edged out of the closet.

We stared at him in united silence.

"Bloody hell, you do look like a choir boy," James said, flabbergasted, and Sirius wailed.

"They're not that bad, Pads," I tried. "I want a pair just like them, really."

Mrs. Potter bustled through the door, gleaming in a sleek blue gown, egg-sized sapphires woven into her hair.

"Who needs choir robes?" she said eagerly. "Remus? Do you need choir robes?"

Damn.

"Yeah," Sirius began evilly. "He wanted to match me!" His black choir robes with the white scoop neck stared at me from the future. Dear God, save me.

I was like a deer in the headlights. No pun intended.

"Mrs. Potter, no! I love mine!" I moaned, clutching at my robes desperately in self-defense.

She raised her wand suspiciously in the air, her hazel eyes gleaming like her maniac son's.

"Are you sure?" she asked again.

"Utterly, perfectly, indescribably sure!" I assured.

Sirius pouted and aimed a kick at my leg.

"Right," she said briskly, pocketing her wand. "Lily's changing into her own robes next door, so let's go over the schedule once more. The guests arrive, and what do you do, dear?"

Prongs groaned.

"I show them the coatroom and welcome them."

"And Sirius?"

"I don't talk and just smile prettily," he answered happily.

"Good! Now, then we head on to appetizers and socializing. Talk and hang out. We move onto the main course. Sirius, what do you do?"

"Oh, you know," he sighed modestly. "I smile prettily and don't say a word."

"It's the same for every party," James breathed to me. "That's _always_ his job."

"And James?"

"I beat myself over the head with the nearest croquet and sing the Weird Sisters, on top of the table," Prongs snapped. "I know what to do, I'm not going to tell Dad's clients anything they don't want to hear."

Mrs. Potter's face fell.

"Right," she choked out, "I'll be waiting downstairs, then."

It was my turn to smack James on the back of the head.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

"Hey Moony," Sirius whispered, flicking bits of shrimp at me, "Do you think they'd notice if we all disappeared?"

"Probably not," I answered, watching James waltz around the dining room, taking coats and shaking hands, his deranged, near-hysterics smile on.

"Well, I think we should leave," he complained, now balancing a house-elves tray of oeuvres on his head. The poor thing was running around his feet attempting to get it back. "It's so boring, and I don't want to have dinner."

Did Padfoot just say NO to a free meal?

"Alright then," I sighed, "Where to, Pads? And how do you plan on getting James free?"

Sirius straightened abruptly and sent the platter flying, the house-elf stampeding after it.

"Like this."

He grinned wickedly, grabbed a flute of champagne, and lightly skipped forward.

"Hey Prongs," he said merrily, and then dumped the champagne all over James and his extremely expensive dress robes.

Prongs bellowed in surprise, but Sirius shouted even louder to the stunned guests, "Oops! Slipped, I guess! I'll just bring him out back and hose him down."

Padfoot steered James towards the servant entrance full-speed, sending him flying down the passageway. Reluctantly, Peter and I followed suit.

We all stumbled out into one of the Potter's numerous gardens, and Padfoot quickly dived behind the bushes, for 'cover'.

Or just because he likes diving and causing issues. Take your pick.

"What the bloody hell was that?" James fumed, now not only sticky but covered in dirt. "They're going to kill us!"

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. We're out of the party and away from Priss—uh, we're out of the party. Peter, did you bring the firewhiskey like I told you?"

Wormtail produced a large bottle of the alcohol from inside his robes.

No wonder they were so tight.

James snatched the bottle first and took a long sip, before chucking it at Padfoot, who caught it, grinning.

"Come on," James commanded, struggling to his feet. "I'll show you the grounds."

The four Marauders stumbled out of the bushes and onto one of the terraces, overlooking much of the Potter grounds.

"Look," Sirius chuckled evilly, "A croquet stick!"

And he and James loudly began to sing the Weird Sisters.

Or Billy Idol.

I'm not sure which, honestly.

"Right," Prongs managed, spinning out in front of us like a sticky, covered-in-dirt tour-guide, "And here is where my great-uncle Alfred once assassinated the Minister of Magic for telling him his rosebushes looked rather small!"

"Mate, your family had some serious anger management problems, seeing as your grandfather dueled another Minister to the death for a broken teacup, your great-great aunt poisoned an entire ball for rude behavior, and your cousin slapped an innocent bystander for laughing when his voice cracked!"

"Sirius, that was you."

"It doesn't change the fact that Adam slapped me!"

James rolled his eyes and stumbled forward, leading us onto the Quiditch field.

Without warning, light flooded from the manor doors, spilling on everything in sight.

"James! Sirius!" Mrs. Potter cried from the entry.

Damn.

James took off full speed for the dense forest bordering the grounds, weaving in and out of the trees like a pro. Sirius followed suit immediately, and I had no choice but to follow, clutching the bottle of illegal substances.

The branches cut at my face, and I heard yelps of pain from all around, but dark places do not bother me. Finally, I stumbled out into an open clearing, where Padfoot and Prongs were attempting to start a fire.

"Whuh?" I managed, staring down at the pair of them.

They beamed up at me.

"We're having a ceremony!" James piped up.

Of course. Since that's the most natural thing to decide to do after sprinting through godforsaken woods.

Peter staggered out of the underbrush, gagging.

"I need a drink," he sighed, snatching the bottle and swigging deeply.

Told you he was an alcoholic.

James and Sirius seemed to have given up on the fire, and were instead pretending the pile of branches were lit.

"Everyone take a seat!" James cried, pushing his glasses up and standing before us impressively. It was slightly ruined by the spit running down his chin.

Sirius snickered, but slumped on the ground on one side of the 'fire', Peter opposite him, me to his left. Prongs paced across from me, obviously trying to think of something to say.

"Friends! We are the Marauders Reborn! We have pledged our friendship with secrets- but for how long? Will we know this friendship will last for life?"

He grew still. Then irritated.

"WELL?"

Sirius rolled onto his side, basking in the warmth of the pile of branches. "Of course, mate. We'll be brothers for life."

I nodded my agreement, and James continued his pacing.

"This is a ceremony of friendship, eternal friendship. We will be brothers for life, after this. Sirius Black!"

Padfoot leapt to his feet and clasped hands with Prongs.

"Do you swear to be a brother for life?" James demanded, slightly tipsy.

Sirius giggled, clearly intoxicated.

"Yeah man!" he slurred. "Bros before hoes, dude!"

Prongs embraced him and almost knocked them both over.

"Then jump over the fire! Then you will be a brother for life!" he commanded, pointing at the pile of damp branches. Sirius's eyes went huge with fright.

"I don't think I can make it," he whispered.

James said giddily, "Your brothers will save you, mate! Now!"

Sirius leapt terrifically over the 'fire' and howled with glee.

"Peter Pettigrew!" James commanded.

Slowly, Wormtail ambled over, tripping and hiccupping the whole way, the bottle still in his grasp. Prongs saw it and practically shoved Pete down to grab it.

"Brothers share, Peter," Prongs commented sheepishly, throwing back whiskey like the sky was falling. "Now, do you swear to be brothers for life?"

"Yes," Peter said quite cheerfully.

Prongs pulled him into a drunken hug. "Now, jump over the fire!"

Wormtail took a running leap and landed sprawled drunkenly on the forest floor, clearly thrilled with himself. And then he promptly passed out.

"Remus Lupin!" James slurred, staggering side to side with the bottle.

I rose to my feet and approached him, not realizing until then how drunk I myself was.

"Yes, your sire," I giggled, bouncing around.

James gave me a weird look, even smashed, and said, "Do you swear to be brothers for life, Moony?"

"Of course," I babbled, swaying on my feet. Prongs pulled me into a hug.

"Now jump over the fire!"

I turned to face at the fire, and I leapt over it, practically landing on top of Padfoot, who was giggling to himself and watching a bug.

"I shall name you Squishy, and you shall be mine," he muttered gleefully, poking the terrified beetle.

"Well, we are brothers for life now!" James managed, collapsing on the ground. Sirius seemed to remember him.

"You guys want to see something funny?" he gasped, leaping to his feet.

"What?" Peter rolled onto his side to stare at Padfoot.

"This was James's strip dance for the elves!" he howled gleefully.

Dear Merlin. Even drunk I know I don't want to see this.

"Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? Don't cha!" Sirius bellowed, dancing around the clearing drunkenly.

Prongs snatched a nearby branch and sent it flying at Sirius, who got hit in the small of the back and promptly collapsed.

"The branch of brotherhood has silenced you!" James shouted hysterically, rising to his feet. "Now, off to the Manor!"

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

I'm not sure how, but somehow I managed to stumble all the way to the Manor, up the stairs, and into my suite. I was too tired to do anything other than smack my retainer on and fall onto the nearest couch, exhausted.

"Squeak."

I moaned.

"Squeak. Squeak."

"Sorry, Wormy," I groaned, struggling to get off him. "I didn't see you there."

Peter grumbled murderously and stumbled off into the dark suite.

Without warning, the doors flew open, and I sat up straight, terrified.

"I didn't do it!" I shouted hysterically.

"Yes he did! I saw him!" Peter answered quickly from the dark.

"Chillax, both of yous," Sirius retorted, coming towards me, James on his heels. "Moony, man, we have a plan for tomorrow."

"What?" I snapped, barely able to talk around my retainer.

James squinted at me.

"What's in your mouth, mate?"

I reddened. My head was just starting to hurt.

"A retainer," I answered.

They shrieked with laughter, falling sideways and rolling around.

"WHAT? You haven't had braces before?"

"No," James snickered, "Because we were born into aristocratic families of high cheekbones and perfect teeth, and thus had no need for Muggle contraptions."

Bloody stupid wizard people.

I turned on my side to ignore them, but Padfoot fell on top of me.

"Anyway, we're going to spend all of tomorrow in the library, mate!"

I gazed up at him in shock.

"Why?" I demanded. That was my safe-haven. They'd probably try to light in on fire.

"Because," Sirius slurred cheerily, "James and I have a bloody brilliant idea for a map of Hogwarts! Be up early, Moons! Sleep tight, Worms!"

And he and Prongs stumbled out of my suite, closing the door.

Ah, peace.

"JAMES! Where did you go all night? I was at the party by myself!"

"Hey, Lily! What's crack-a-lackin?"

Her screams were audible through the door.

"YOU DITCHED ME, POTTER! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?"

"MY PROBLEM IS YOU YELLING AT ME!" James retorted, before adding as an afterthought, "And ponies. I don't like ponies."

Their screams continued, growing louder, while Sirius giggled like he had just achieved his life goal.

"Merry Christmas!" he laughed.

I sighed heavily, and shook my head.

"Those two are destined for each other, but because of that conversation I had with her, it's going to take them a VERY long time."

I yawned.

"My bad, my bad."

I fell asleep before I could see that snow had started to fall on the enchanted Potter Manor.

_**MWPPMWPPMWPPMWPP**_

Like it? Hate it? Love it? Adore it? Get the point yet?

The more reviews I get the faster I update, so review!

I must admit, I love when people tell me their favorite quotes  

Wow! That was my longest chapter yet! SCORE!

**AND IT'S TIME FOR A HP/ O.C. MATCHUP! (Just go along with it)**

_Who would win in a fight? (NO MAGIC)_

**Ginny vs. Summer **

**Ron vs. Seth**

**Sandy vs. Dumbledore**

**Ryan vs. Harry**

**Marissa vs. Hermione**

**-danielle♣♠**


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